His Greatest Ally
by HotCheeseBuns
Summary: "You are just as beautiful as they say, Miss Princess," the Dark Doctor stated politely. "Are you just as deadly?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why is it that you ask, sir?" "I wish to make an alliance..." Portgas D Ace x OC x Trafalgar Law
1. Chapter 1

Before the revolution, the bloodshed, the horror. Before everything came crashing down, I remember the Heavenly City, as it was called, looked so beautiful when the sakura petals began to fall. Mother would take Ishi and me down to the courtyard, a place from which nearly the entire city could be seen, so that she could show us what was ours. It was all ours then. The people's lives belonged to us, as did they homes, possessions and even children; like they were little more than cattle living in our barns.

Wano Country had been such a pretty country. Physically, it still is, yet in the past three months, these people have seen nothing but blood. We couldn't take the country through political means, so we took it by force. And now?

The roaring cheers beat loudly against my ears, crushing my mind like a fragile butterfly. Beside me, my best samurai stand proudly with the shoulders pulled back and chests puffed out. I smile faintly to myself. They look so proud, even with their blood splattered armour and hakamas. We had been fighting all night and all day to break through the castle's defenses in order to steal Wano Country back from the royal family, for they had crippled this mighty nation.

For centuries, this place has been tormented by imperialistic rule. But now it's free. Kin'emon steps forward from his place with his nakama, or comrades, and hands me an elated looking den den mushi. The snail blinks at me before I silently take the speaker and pull it to my mouth. My thumb smarts in pain as blood courses down my hand and forearm.

Previous cheers die down. "This is our country!" My voice rings out and echoes from my place in the courtyard, overlooking the city. "Do not fear the imperials anymore! Edo is not your Emperor! Shusui is not your Empress! They do. Not. Own you!" Unlike anything I have heard before, their screams of joy, elation, relief and pain rise up. I can feel the grass and stone beneath my feet trembling from the sheer volume.

Mingled with that, are the desperate cries of five royals. My family. I am ashamed to say that I am related to them, that they are my flesh and blood, yet that is what they are. I was born Teranobu Siatsuke, but I reject the name Teranobu. And still they are my family. I still love them, despite how disgusting and evil they are.

Feeling a hard stare pointed at the side of my head, I turn my gaze slightly. That man, Monkey D. Dragon, the mighty revolutionary and most wanted man alive continues to hood his eyes with his cloak, though his tattoo and faint smile are still visible. Not far from him are a few of Whitebeard's men. Marco, Thatch and a new member named Ace. I'm not sure why he's here, and I doubt he has any idea either. Whitebeard, their leader, I have never met, though I know he wishes to give his support. For all of their help, I'll be forever grateful. This revolution is over now, thanks to them.

I swallow thickly in an attempt to push down threatening emotions. It is a disgrace for a samurai to cry, let alone a woman who shouldn't be doing the things I have anyway. "I beg of you, my proud and strong people: make something of yourselves now. This is your chance to change Wano and bring about a new era…" A crack ripples through my voice and I stumble of the last few words, though it doesn't faze the crowd. "Destroy these old foundations and build something new from the strength of your will, and not the strength of an iron fist!"

Nothing can stop the crowd's excitement now. I know what they expect. An execution of the five quivering royals kneeling behind me. They expect my faithful samurai to dispatch them through a beheading or diagonal slashing of the chest, a death without honour.

"Destroy these old foundations…!"

I unsheathe my beloved katana, as if it were mere ritual, and turn to meet the slightly confused faces of my samurai. The first strike, to my younger brother Taito, is the quickest. He barely has time to register what is going on before the end of my katana tears through his elaborate hakama and soft flesh. Blood aggressive sprays from the wound as his eyes roll into the back of his head. Mother screams in horror and grief.

With a dull thud, his body lands lifelessly on the grass, staining it that unrelenting scarlet.

"Hime-sama, what're you-?" Kin-emon asks in shock, trying to detain me. I glare up into his dark eyes. He takes a step back. I can feel the thick, warm blood matting in my raven hair and kimono as I turn to look at my older brother, Ishi.

"… And build something new…"

He stares in absolute fear. Taito was cruel and ruthless. Ishi is greedy, lustful and unforgiving. Mother is vindictive, cunning and merciless, yet now her petrified screams fill this place. In two smoothe motions they are dead too, lying face down in the grass. Enimon, my eldest brother, and Father remain. Enimon is not afraid. His brutality has made him accustomed to this blood.

I have already killed Taito, Ishi and Mother, as well as countless others who will most likely never be name. For three years I have looked to the moment when Wano would be free. For three months I have toiled past losing my friends, my lover and my innocence.

"… From the strength of your own will…"

Pulling back the katana and twisting my wrist slightly, Enimon is swiftly beheaded. His head rolls with a dead expression along the ground. "Please, Hime-sama, do not-!"

"… And not the strength of an iron fist!"

"Father, please forgive me." His coal black eyes stare at me in hot rage. Their swirling darkness demand that I step down, act like a sweet little geisha and hand Wano to him once more. My jaw twitches.

I drive the point through the base of his neck, letting it protrude through the middle of his back. He slides of the blade slowly, a ring from the metal hissing in protest.

"Hime-sama…" A samurai to my left whispers.

I feel something in my stomach rise. I lurch over and cough up the contents of my stomach. Orc yellow slime splatters on the blades of grass below me, mingling with the still-warm blood. This execution… No, this massacre was heartless.

I don't know why, but I don't feel numb. Isn't that what grief does? Why can't it crush my heart into little pieces? The sounds around me thin into little buzzes and my head begins to feel dizzy. They're dead, aren't they? I'd known this is what had to be done, right from the beginning I knew. My people, or rather these people could never forget the cruelty of the royals until they were all dead.

There's a hand on my shoulder, large and gripping me tightly. Snapped from my thoughts, I wipe the small amount of sick from the corner of my mouth and straighten myself. Kin'emon stares at me with a deathly serious expression. I am a monster. I can feel it reflected in his eyes.

Looking past him, I can see the horrified expressions of the three Whitebeard pirates. Wano Country is not like the rest of the world. Like it, we are brutal and merciless, but unlike them we do no act like humans. We are samurai, through and through. Right to the end.

Hastily I shrug off the famed samurai's hand. With my free hand I smoothe down my sleek kimono then walk to the very edge of the courtyard. Down below, there are so many people. I know they saw everything, yet they cannot stop cheering. When I see this, I know everything is going to be okay.

I feel dizzy, swaying slightly on my feet. The crowd's cheers soften to near silence. The den den mushi is offered to me once more. Weakly, into the speaker I say, "We are they future, we are what's-"

_Shink!_ How had I not seen that coming? I drop the den den mushi numbly and stare down at the piece of metal rammed through my chest, so very close to me heart.

"Hime-sama, you really shouldn't be taking on roles such as revolutionary. You're much to pretty to be a samurai…" A voices hisses.

"Metanobi! You bastard!" I hear the clicking of wooden sandals, the clashing of steel and finally the horrified screams of the people below. The weapon is removed from my chest, only for blood to pour out like hot rain. Next thing I know, I'm on the crowd, deftly watching as my beloved samurai slaughter one of their 'nakama'. All the while my body goes slack. I can vaguely make out the youngest of the Whitebeards' eyes staring into mine with clear desperation before everything around me fades.


	2. Chapter 2

Though I haven't opened my eyes yet, they feel hot and bleary. There's a strong pressure crushing my skull like a grape and burning up my ears. My eyelids lazily flicker open and I'm left staring a mid-coloured wooden ceiling. I can faintly hear the sound of slowly creaking floorboards and waves crashing nearby.

I think it's safe to assume I'm on a boat. Which boat, is the question at hand. Stiffness coats my muscles and especially the area around my chest… Ah, that's right, that traitor Metanobi Mebuki ran a sword through me. It was always odd how quickly that man managed to change from an imperialist to revolutionary so quickly. Now, however, it's quite obvious: he planned to kill me.

Nevertheless, at the moment that's probably not my main concern, considering I am actually still alive and breathing. Craning my neck, I catch a glimpse of the open ocean through a porthole before a blinding pain lances frighteningly close to my heart. I give out a short gasp and bite my lip, toes and finger tips curling.

Samurai do not feel pain. Samurai do not feel pain. Samurai do not feel- fuck it hurts! Finally, after God knows how long, it disappears somewhat. Only a dull ache throb remains, reminding me of what might happen next time I move too much.

Now back to the porthole. As far as the eye can see, there is a great expanse of glittering seas. The waves aren't that high, though they lap lazily against the wooden paneling of the ship barely below my window.

I hold back a choked sob. Samurai do not feel pain. My family, their… End was my duty. Who else more appropriate to do it than the one who started all this bloodshed. I couldn't stand the injustice of tyrannical rule, even as a thirteen year old girl. At that point I had only been properly trained in the ways of a geisha, as those were the only skills I would 'need' as a princess. Yet look how far I had come; commanding an army, some of the best samurai in all of Wano Country and an acclaimed swordswoman in a society dominated by men. Nothing had gone as I'd planned, obviously. At first, with my childish innocence, I thought I could solve the world's problems with words alone. That was fools hope, a quaint dream quickly snuffed out by the brutality of my childhood. Soon things escalated at an alarming rate as I pursued the art of being a geisha and a samurai. As a woman, I was to be a polite and obedient creature, but that was, and still is something I could never tolerate.

My wandering thoughts are interrupted by the soft clicking of a door handle opening. Not looking away from the ocean, I listen as the door squeaks open and shoes quietly pad along the ground.

I clear my throat as I slowly look at my visitor, indicating that I am awake. At this point, the fact that there are tubes and wires coming out of my body comes to my attention. That might explain by numbness and tight muscles.

Said visitor yelps and jumps slightly, nearly dropping the bucket of water in his arms but instead steadies himself on the wall behind him. "Y-You're awake?" He states in a questioning way.

Opening my mouth, I attempt to make a sound, though not a peep can be heard, so I merely stare at him until he gets the idea. For a few moments he doesn't move until finally he brings himself back into reality and looks at my eyes. His somewhat short for a man, not quite as short as me however, with messy ginger hair and bright blue eyes. Had the situation been different, I might've been mesmerized by his foreign appearance.

He gapes back, eyeing my porcelain skin, raven hair, thin features and most of all, the unsettling look in my eyes. Blue eyes watch blood red ones as we assess one another, deciding who is stronger in the battle of wills. Within a few seconds his eyes dart away before returning. This time he stares a little lower than my eyes. I have obviously one.

"How-How are you fee-feeling, Hime-san?" He asks nervously, approaching with his sloshing bucket.

The corner of my mouth pulls back in distaste. This is my only reply. I return to staring out the porthole.

"I'm just here to ch-check on your fever and give you a wet towel. " The man places the bucket beside the bed and wrings out a towel that was inside, before gingerly placing it as neatly on my forehead as possibly. I don't comply so it simply slides off my face, yet he only fixes it diligently. "You've been out for nearly two weeks, Doc thought you were a goner! Apparently the sword, the one you were… Stabbed with, missed your heart by only a few millimeters! Pops has been very worried about you. You haven't met him before, have you? Well he's quite excited to meet you, I can tell you that…" Voice trailing off, he goes silent for a long while as he mindless checks on the wires protruding from my body. "I'm Ox, by the way. You're Teranobu Siatsuke, right?"

I flinch at the first part of my name: Teranobu. I let out a hiss, silencing him once more. Awkwardly fumbling with the IV drip that is attached to me, Ox begins to mechanically spout a whole lot of nonsense, most of which I don't understand.

"The Old Man is excited to see yah, especially after he heard about your great siege on the Heavenly City. Is it true you cut down fifty samurai with one move? The must've been amazing!" He seems quite nosy, but to be polite I watch him as he speaks. "Izo was thrilled when he learnt that we would be having a real life Wano princess. The women seem excited too, since we'll be stopping off at Funisha soon. Maybe they want to see a traditional tea ceremony or something. Hopefully we won't be stopped by the Navy, or God forbid another hopeful pirate trying to challenge Whitebeard."

My eyebrow quirks in annoyance. Only recently had I awoken to find myself on a strange ship, which I am now assuming is Whitebeard's, with an agonized body, unable to speak and this man is blabbering on while I helpless listen. Hopefully this will be over soon, I don't want to be awake much longer. My wandering mind continues to attack me with memories of the execution, of my friends and samurai dying, of innocents dying…

"Maybe you could also-" He's swiftly cut off by another voice, one that I find recognizable. I achingly turn my head more towards the door.

"Ox, stop talking for just one second!" Marco says whilst laughing. He appears to be quite relaxed, leaning against the door way that isn't too far from my bed. Ox dips his head in embarrassment and apologizes. He waves the younger man out and approaches me. "How yah going, Hime-sama?"

I try to find my voice, and yet it's still gone. The blonde man take a glass from the bedside table, dips it in the bucket and puts it back on the table. He gingerly reaches around my shoulders to help me sit up, though I shrug him off politely. A samurai needs no form of help from anyone, be they stranger or ally.

Weakly, pushing off my palms, and with a great deal of pain, I push myself upright. My heart protests the move and I gasp in pain. Marco drops a hand on my head and the other on my left shoulder.

"Maybe you shouldn't move…" I gingerly shake my head in reply. "Water?" He offers.

I nod silently and he hands me the glass. My shaky hands take it greedily and I scull it, not caring if a little bit spills from the corner of my lips. Cool liquid brushes down my throat, soothing the scratchy dryness of it. After two weeks of being unconscious, obviously my throat is bound to be more than a little dry. Marco gives me another two glasses of water before I refuse the third.

Having already taken his hands off my head and shoulder, he sits carefully on the side of the bed. "Feelin' alright?"

"Yes, th-thank you very much, sir." I croak, feeling embarrassed at my lack of voice. The weight in my chest feels like a leaden spike that has been driven through me multiple times. Eyeing him nervously as he sits on the bed, I will him to move.

Does he not realize how inappropriate this may appear? -especially for a woman of my position. Well, he is a pirate after all. I shouldn't expect him to care or even notice.

"You're probably not up for walking around, correct?" Before I can reply, he smirks and continues. "Well dinner will be served in about an hour if you're feeling well enough-"

I hold up my hand to silence him. "Marco-san, I am quite alright. This is barely a light wound, so there is no need for you to be concerned." He frowns at my politeness, or my words. Which one I cannot be sure, but as he looks to the heavy bandaging that can be seen peeking out from my kimono, I assume the latter. "I should like to come out onto the deck, if I may."

"You do realize you were stabbed through the chest barely two weeks ago… Right?"

"I do."

"And that you ain't fit to be out of bed yet?"

"I am aware of that."

"…" He gives me a blank look of slight confusion and worry. I had seen that look many times when he assisted in the revolution upon his captain's orders, but this one seems less horrified, thankfully.

I sigh gently under my breath and pull the two sides of this loose kimono, which I notice is no longer blood stained and torn, towards the center of my body, effectively shielding the bandages. Marco doesn't seem willing to let me leave this small, lifeless room. Even as I can hear the waves crashing against the side of the ship and feel the gentle swaying of the bed, nothing feels better.

"Marco-san," I begin. "As a samurai, geisha and princess- former princess of Wano, I cannot allow you to disgrace me in such a way. As soon as I see fit, I should like to meet with your captain and properly thank him for his assists. Should that not be possible, then I would be dishonored and less inclined to cooperate in future circumstances."

To my surprise, Marco lets out a… Laugh? It's breathy and quiet, but I can still notice it clear enough. I furrow my brows in confusion. "No one here is gonna think that you're weak or anything just because you need to stay in bed and recover."

"I _do not_ need to recover. There is nothing wrong with me."

"Samurai sure are stubborn, eh?" Muses Marco. I don't reply but instead through the blankets off me. At first my legs feel unchanged, but the second the cool air hits them, I glance down at my exposed legs. As does Marco. Where is the rest of my kimono?

"M-Marco-san! Please look away!" I yelp, throwing the blankets back over my slender legs and burying my ashamed face into the blankets. Again, Marco laughs. I stifle a glare at him and hide my fuming expression.

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a satisfied smirk when he stops laughing, and he says, "We didn't do anything to you, if that's what you're worried about. Our doc just didn't know how to get your samurai armor and kimono off, so he had to rip the bottom."

"I-I am not as concerned for that, you are g-good people." I mutter. "However, it is shameful to reveal so much, considering I barely know you." His sculptured eyebrows rise even higher in amusement. "I-I-I mean, baring such flesh is taboo unless-"

"You need to calm down, Siatsuke." He uses my name for the first time and upon instinct I nearly reprimand him. Then I remember I am no longer a princess. I'm simply a nobody. "Those sorts of ideas are crazy and out-dated. Most of the crew members wouldn't think you were being shameful if they saw that, so it's no problem."

I try to hide my pout, so I hang my head. "My apologies, Marco-san. "

"It's fine." Marco drags a hand down his face and laughs gently before looking at me. "Still want to go up on deck?"

"Indeed." I reply. "Though I must ask for some decent clothes." He nods and leaves the room for a few moments to retrieve some clothes. When the man slips back into the room, my eyes fall to the limp kimono in his hands. It's slightly disheveled and rumpled, though the green fabric looks fine enough. Unlike my own kimonos, it's not suitable for battle, or even casual wear. It narrows to a point at the bottom, from what I can tell, and resembles a geisha's kimono somewhat. "Thank you kindly, Marco-san."

Smiling back politely, he lays the fabric on the bed and turns to leave. "No problem." Marco says over his shoulder just before the door closes behind him.

Slowly and gently, I ease my bare legs over the side of the bed. Due to my short stature, my feet only just touch the floor. Without putting too much of a strain on my back or the muscles surrounding my heart, I pull the green kimono closer to me.

Slipping off my own kimono and putting on this new one with a harsh wound and wobbly legs is quite a challenge, though not like tying the obi. Finally, through much wincing and freezing, I manage to tie the white obi around my waist, thus securing the kimono. It feels itchy and slightly uncomfortable, not like my kimono at home.

Home… I doubt I'll ever return, but that's okay. I did what I was made to do in this world, and I'm okay with that. This feeling of peace is quite pleasant, even though it's accompanied by grief.

Shuffling from the weakness in my legs and the narrowness of the kimono, I leave the cramped room. Outside, I spot Marco waiting patiently in the narrow hallway, along with some other… friends. Most are more than a head taller than I with butchy bodies and scruffy beards. The tattoo that I had seen Marco, Ace and Thatch wear seems to be common among these men also. The purple cross with a moustache is their insignia, or as they call it, 'jolly roger'. And despite their appearance, they seem genuinely happy to see me. Not that I have met them, which thoroughly confuses me.

"I couldn't keep them away, Hime-sama," Marco apologizes with a subtle wink. "They were just so excited to be able to meet a samurai-geisha princess."

"Is that so…" I comment dryly. This hall is starting to feel a little claustrophobic. "Well it is a pleasure to make the acquaintance of you all. I trust that you all are just as charming as Marco-san." There is an explosion of blushes and flattered head rubbing, which only serves to make the pirates clatter in the hall and bump against one another.

To the left of me, a young-looking brunette speaks up. "Miss Princess, yeh flatter us too much, y'know?"

I quirk and eyebrow. "Would you prefer it that I do not?" The teen looks slightly shocked. "If that is the case, then I sincerely apologize, I did not mean to get ahead of myself." I bow slightly at the hips, making sure not to touch them. Raven hair slips over my shoulder in silky waves until I straighten up, not waiting for his approval.

"N-No! I didn't mean-" As he waves his hands in front of his face, the others interject loudly, causing me to wince.

"BARKER! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" They chorus, eyes ablaze with anger and annoyance. Shrinking away, he mutters a small 'sorry' and smiles sheepishly. I nod to signal that I forgive him.

Ignoring the others, Marco turns to me and asks, "The deck, Hime-sama?"

"Please." Marco ushers the men to the sides, allowing us safe passage. Ignoring my breathlessness and the stinging in my chest, I follow the blonde in front of me diligently. Within a few moments, I am faced with the blinding light of the midday sun. Swiftly I shield my eyes before lowering my arm to face whatever horrors a pirate ship might hold.

To my surprise, it is nothing like I expected. Rather than having a crowd of drunken, sweaty men keeling over prostitutes and corpses of slaughtered victims, I see a party of sorts. Most of these pirates are appropriately dressed and barely sweating, there are no prostitutes and certainly no dead bodies. Instead, many have a mug of sake in their hands and either singing and dancing or chatting amongst themselves.

"You look a little surprised." Marco comments and I can hear the lilting laugh in his voice. I clench my jaw, fold my arms and tilt my head to one side.

"Certainly, this is quite a surprise. I had originally assumed Ace, Thatch and yourself were merely being polite because of your position in Wano, though it seems pirates aren't as… Bad as I had thought."

He smiles at me, pleased at my semi-compliment, though ignoring my assumption of them. "Glad to hear that, Hime-sama." Swinging his arm to the side, he points to the large dais near the centre of the deck. "Shall we go meet Pops now?"

I follow without reply. A few heads turn at first and, after some elbow-nudging and shushing whispers, the majority of the crew is watching. Ignoring their stares isn't unnerving, since I have done it my whole life, though it's the pointed one from the exceedingly large old man seated like an immovable pillar upon the dais. He is as tall as a house with a hefty frame, innumerable scars and a crescent-shaped moustache. So this is Whitebeard, eh? I wonder why he's called that, considering he's beardless.

Calculating eyes watch my approach, and I watch back with clear respect.

"Teranobu Siatsuke, princess of the infamous Wano Country… We finally meet." He says in a low and somewhat gravelly voice. I doubt it means to be intimidating, though I can't help feel annoyed at his tone. A lifetime of being revered does that to a person.

"Newgate Edward, Whitebeard, mighty Yonko, it is my utter pleasure to be graced by your presence." I say formally. To express my undying thanks, I kneel in front of the dias. I put my finger tips together in front of my body and bow humbly, while still retaining my dignity. "I thank you deeply for your assistance throughout the revolution, as I do also appreciate the support of your mere name."

"E-Eh, Hime-sama, you don't have to-" I hear Ace's voice, though I don't remember seeing him. Nevertheless, I continue. I would be ashamed to be interrupted in such an important moment.

"Please forgive my weakness in requiring your assistance; it is truly a humiliation as a samurai and princess of Wano. If you will, do with me as you please so as to give my life meaning and to restore honour to my… To my…"

"Hime-sama…?"

I swallow thickly and repeat. "If you will, do with me as you please so as to give my life meaning and to restore honour to my family." There's an awkward silence, to which I say, "I beg of you, sir."

"Get up off the floor, girl." Whitebeard commands gruffly, causing my shoulder blades to tense. I fight a flush of embarrassment and stand gracefully, taking great care not to shame myself more by tripping on my kimono. "Don't think you can act like that on my boat, yah hear?"

I blink in surprise, not expecting this. At the very least I could've hoped for a bit more dignity in reply.

"As far as I'm concerned, you seem like a nice kid. Are you really in such a hurry to sell your life to me for a little help?" I grit my teeth in reply, suppressing a glare I would've used on any other person. "That's what I thought, and besides you're interrupting the party."

"My apologizes, it was not my intention to-"

"KANPAI!" Someone behind me cries, and the entire crew roars in agreement. My eye twitches in annoyance. Such insolence…. Not a princess. Not a princess. Not a princess…

"-offend you in such a way-"

"Look away everyone! Sargeant's started dancing again!" There's a chorus of groans.

"Whitebeard-san!" I hiss desperately above the din.

Marco approaches quickly, thrusting a sloshing tankard of sake into my hands. I stare down at the fizzling golden alcohol in my hands then shoot him a confused and annoyed look. "Don't worry about the Old Man so much, Hime-sama. Just join in with the fun, you need it." He slings an arm lazily over my shoulders like it's the most casual action in the world, when in fact it only makes me quite uncomfortable.

One hand, the one slung over my shoulder, plays with a strand of my dark hair, whilst the other nurses his own sake. "Marco-san, I do not-"

"Oi, Marco!" Thatch smirks, approaching with his hands in his pockets and cheeks flushed with drunken warmth. His pompadour hairstyle is as tightly curled as ever. "Princess here is only sixteen, better lay off until it's more than _barely_ legal."

For a moment, Marco looks unperturbed, though it seems he decides to play along. He pushes off of me, causing me to stumble slightly, and approaches Thatch with a childish glare. "As if you'd even know if I were hitting on a girl! You can't do it yourself anyway." Jabbing the brunette lightly in the chest, Marco then turns and claps me on the shoulder. A small amount of sake splashes over the side. "Besides, I was only being friendly."

Unbeknownst to me at this point, Thatch leans in close to Marco's ear and whispers, "She had a boyfriend, right? Seriously, avoid anything close to that." He nods solemnly in reply before faking a grin at me. I eye the pair of them warily.

This time, Thatch gives me his full attention and the scar around his eye crinkles as he gives me a closed-eyes smile. "C'mon, I'll introduce you to some mates." He says. He walks off, ushering me to follow. I glance at Whitebeard, only to be given an approving nod. It is his ship after all, and I am in his debt. I also notice Ace beginning to trail behind.

"Hime-sama, meet Izo, Haruta and Teach. Guys, this is Teranobu Siatsuke."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." I say shortly, hissing at the sound of my family name. "And it is just Siatsuke now, actually."

Thatch laughs awkwardly and rubs the back of his head. "Ahahaha, my bad. Sorry."

"Nice to meet'ya, Hime-sama!" The smallest and friendliest greets. Dark blue eyes stare up at me from behind a messy mop of brown hair. Like most of the pirates here, there's a faint drunken blush on his face, along with sake in his hand. His attire is unusual to say the least, even someone like myself who has never been outside of Wano until now. The green and white outfit suits his small stature quite well, serving to make him like larger than he actually is. "I'm Haruta, by the way."

"Marshall D. Teach," an overweight man with darkened skin and a shock of unruly black hair states. "And it's good to see ya up." He shoves a pie of sorts into his mouth before licking his fingers. Unsurprisingly, I dislike this beast of a man already. He's far too uncivilized and unhygienic for my care.

Finally, one catches my eye. I stare unashamedly at his slightly failed attempt at cross-dressing as a geisha, one that I can say flatters him more than regular dress would. "Izo, at your service, fair princess." His lips are painted red, skin pale and inky hair pulled back in the traditional geisha style. Sadly Izo's clothes are quite tasteless and cheap.

I nod my head at them, accepting their greetings. "Hime-sama here is a genuine samurai and geisha; katana, kimono and all." Thatch grins.

"Oh, that reminds me." I turn my head to look at the brunette. "If I may, Thatch-san, could my weapons be returned to me as soon as possible."

"Our weapon-smith is just giving them a once over, that's all." Ace answers for him. "Apparently your sword took quite a beating over the last few months." I nod, accepting his reply. "You need to calm down, Siatsuke."

He places two hands on my shoulders and forces me into a seated position amongst his friends. They watch with curious and humoured expressions as I cautiously sip the sake. It's hot and tangy, burning at my throat as I swallow. Noticing my displeased face, they laugh raucously. I gag and couch at it. Ace squats and then sits beside me, patting my back.

"It might take some getting used to, especially for a person like you." He laughs, causing me to raise an eyebrow. Ace stops, scratches the back of his head, looks down from my eyes and waves a hand at me. "A-Ah, I didn't mean it like that, it's just that you're r-royalty and all s-so-" I lean forward, resting my elbow against my knee and chin in my palm. A hot blush rises onto his cheeks.

"What Ace is _trying_ to say," interjects Izo before the poor teen can make any more of a full out of himself. "Is that you're getting him hot under the collar with such a tight-lip expression."

"That's not the only thing getting him hot." Marco whistles. I immediately bristle, rising to my feet. My hands go to the non-existent sword at my hip, leaving me grasping at thin air.

The others laugh at my reaction. "That was hardly appropriate, Marco-_san_." I growl. He chuckles behind his hand and points at my chest. My garnet eyes glanced down momentarily before the blood rushes to my face, turning me a bright shade of red. The front folds of my kimono have split apart, allowing a fear amount of cleavage bare. Wordlessly, I snatch the fabric of kimono and pull it together abruptly, stretching across my front. "You thought not to tell me before, sir?" I spit.

"Samurai's pride right?"

My eyes narrow.

"Erm, well why don't we move on, eh?" Izo says after a short period of my glaring boring holes into Marco's. "Tell us a little about Wano, hm."

A jerk in my heart interrupts our glaring session, and I catch Ace elbowing the cross-dresser roughly. The things that instantly spring to mind is my family, and all the people close to me that I lost.

"If that is what you wish, then very well." I reply, seating myself once more. "Where would you like me to begin?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Tell us about the geishas." Izo says excitedly, obviously interested in possibly only one thing. It unnerves me to speak of something he was so passionate about, even if his attempt at imitation is pitiful.

"Our idea of a geisha is, from what I hear, significantly different to yours." I say, holding up my index finger. "Geishas in Wano train from the moment they are old enough to actually comprehend speech. Of course, this tends to be their only profession and, needless to say, few ever marry. Aside from that, geishas train in order to become the embodiment of living art, rather than for money or a simple vocational choice."

Ace tilts his head slightly and says, "That doesn't sound very fun."

"Forgive my brashness, Ace-san, but the point of becoming a geisha is not _fun_." Wano culture is quite irregular compared to the outside world in terms of how people make their decisions, so it's not surprising that others might react negatively to what I might say. "As cruel as this may sound, one's duty must be placed before friends, family, desires and moral obligations. If I order any Wano to do a certain task, he is obliged by the social strata and his duty to the royal family, to either complete the task or commit seppuku out of humiliation. In actuality, it would be more shameful for that samurai to _not_ kill himself after such disgrace."

For a few moments, they are quiet, thinking silently to themselves. Most seem perturbed by the idea of total obedience to a leader, where a person is _obligated_ to do something, rather than from free will. Ace watches me with calm worry, a saddened look on his face. If you don't live in a world where culture dictates your every action, then I suppose this might all seem cruel. That or he's remembering the disturbing images of Wano.

"Those geishas are something else though." Thatch grins, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "And they're kinda creepy too. Like emotionless dolls." He takes a long draft of sake, exhales loudly and continues. "You ain't seen a city until you've seen the Heavenly City! It's bigger than an island, taller than a forest and full of people. I reckon a few million would live in that one city _alone_!"

"A few million?" Haruta grumbles into his sake. "C'me on, Thatch. As if. Knowing you, there were probably only a couple of thousand. You're such a shit liar."

Most of them laugh lightly, causing Thatch to flush with embarrassment and draw a flustered expression. "O-Oi, you weren't there were you?"

"Actually, Thatch-san is correct." I interject. "Last year we recorded nearly two and a half million citizens residing in the Heavenly City alone. Outside of the city, I believe there are up to six million at the very least."

Izo's plucked eyebrows rise is astonishment, and he says, "Really? How amazing." He juts his chin in my direction, none to gracefully. No matter how you look at him, or how far he chooses to take cross-dressing, it's still painfully obvious that he's a man. "I'd like to see a traditional geisha tea ceremony some time, Hime-sama."

"Of course, if that is what you would like."

"And show them that special move you did with your sword. Eh, what's it called? Demon… Demon…" Ace mumbles, tapping his chin gently. His wavey black hair is dragged slightly by the wind, along with the strings of his strange orange hat. The man looks at me expectantly, waiting me to finish his sentence.

"I do believe you mean 'Demon Parade'? If so, I'm afraid that technique places a great strain on my body, and I'd prefer not to use it as a sideshow, Ace-san."

Ace pouts. "Well that's no fun, can't you at least-" I blink, unsurprised, as his head tilts backwards mid-sentence and a soft snore dribbles from his mouth.

"HE FELL ASLEEP!" The crew choruses. It seems they had been watching us the entire time. Nonetheless, I ignore their presence.

"My, my, it seems Ace still has an issue with his sleeping habits." I muse quietly to myself.

"Ace has narcolepsy." Teach laughs, slapping his knee. A huge grin is spread across his face after the barking laughter ceases, showing his dirty and missing teeth. "I know because he's my division commander."

"It's actually common knowledge." Marco explains and I nod in reply. Narcolepsy… I have never heard of that condition before, but I suppose it has to do with him randomly falling asleep. It's strange how Ace can seem to be happy, even in his sleep. This 'pirate's life' must be quite relaxing.

I purse my lips before taking a small sip of sake, instantly regretting it. I splutter slightly as it burns my throat. "Why is this so strong?" I growl incredulously, throwing the drink away from me as the others continue to laugh. Glaring at them in annoyance does nothing to hinder them, and it seems they even enjoy my failed attempts at silencing them. My lip curls slightly in disdain. How _dare_ they laugh at me?

"H-Hime-sama," Marco laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. I instantly shake him off. "It's _supposed_ to be that str-"

"Fight me." I hiss.

His laughter stops after a little while and he blinks slowly at me. "Huh?"

"I cannot allow myself to be humiliated in such a way." I annunciate slowly, rising to my feet. My heart is pounding viciously in my chest from the strain, but I decide to ignore it for now. "My honour shall be restored from a fight, in which I will win."

"As if you could defeat the First-Division Commander, Marco." Haruta chuckles starkly. I send him a harsh glare, causing him to lean back slightly.

"Besides, you're not even fully healed." Marco adds.

"As far as I am concerned, there is nothing wrong with me." I retort. "Hand me back my katana, and allow me the honour of a proper duel." The ship has not stopped for us. Nobody turns their head or stops talking, though they can feel the harsh waves of animosity rolling off me.

"Siatsuke!" A huge voice rises over the rest. It goes deathly quiet. I slowly turn from Marco and face Whitebeard. He has an unimpressed expression on his face. "You are a guest on _my_ ship, and as I've said, don't think you can act like a samurai, or whatever you're trying to be, here. Right now, you are a child who's lost everything and has been humbly taken aboard a pirate ship. Act like it. Scream, cry, destroy my ship for all I care, but stop being so brazen towards my sons, if you cannot even grieve properly." His glare intensifies. "You're acting like a brat."

Glowering at the floor, I can feel my fisted hands begin to shake. My shoulder blades are pushed together from extreme tension and hair hides my enraged face. Who does this old man think he is to tell me this!? I am in no way a brat! This is not a form of grief! This is certainly not me getting out my frustrations on people. How I act is my way of life, the samurai code that refuses dishonor. I cannot simply drop everything I have learnt in life, simply because I am a _guest_ on his ship! It is truly pathetic… Of me.

How can I think this? After everything Whitebeard has done for me, I still act like this. Perhaps I am being a brat.

I soothe the shaking in my hands and look up calmly. "My apologies, Whitebeard-san." I say, graciously bowing. "I'll not allow it to happen again."

Whitebeard doesn't reply, instead he settles back into his enormous chair and takes his sake once more. The party awkwardly starts again and my face feels flushed from embarrassment. How much more humiliation will I face while on this ship?

"Marco-san, please accept my sincerest apology." I whisper quietly to him. "I did not mean for such dishonour to get out of hand."

"Naw it's fine." He replies, startling me somewhat. I blink at him in utter surprise. "Fights like that often happen here, I was just surprised that you would actually challenge me! Not many people do nowadays. "

"That's 'cos you beat them to bloody pulp." Ace comments, having woken up amidst my challenge of Marco.

Marco shrugs nonchalantly, a smug and relatively pleased expression on his face. He grabs me by the back of the neck and gives me a side-hug… Thing which, considering my position on this ship, I am inclined to accept. I settle for awkwardly fidgeting instead.

"I would like to fight someday though." He states. For the umpteenth time, the others laugh at my uneasiness at such close contact. "Maybe when you join the Whitebeard pirates?"

"Oh, that'd be cool!" Ace smirks. Finally, Marco releases me and I deftly seat myself beside Ace once more. "You can be in my division." He jerks a thumb to his shirtless chest and laughs.

"Having a girl would be refreshing." Teach adds in an annoyingly loud voice, might I say.

Haruta shakes his head ruefully. "Sorry boys, but a samurai would fit in much better with me. Swordsmen should stick together!"

"Ah, ah, you're forgetting Hime-sama is a girl before a samurai, so she should join the Sixteenth Division." Izo argues. I quirk an eyebrow at the group. Since when did I agree to _any_ of this?

"_You're_ not a girl, Izo. Just a shitty cross-dresser." Ace howls with laughter and continues. "Besides, I know her better than you guys, so obviously she'll join me."

"Well if we're talking personal relationships, I reckon Marco and I have a better chance than you, Ace." Declares Thatch.

For a moment, Ace looks quite mortified at the thought. "N-No way! We were super close during the revolution!" He looks to me and grins. "Right?" I purse my lips, unsure of what to say. It would be unseemly for me to say I am close to an unrelated male. "See!"

"I don't think it really matters." Izo raises his hands up slightly in mock surrender, eyes closed and a faint smirk pulling on the corner of his mouth. "I'm sure the princess here would feel more comfortable with someone similar to people from her own country."

"Similar my ass." Haruta mutters.

"I resent you beastly men sometimes." He smoothes his tasteless kimono and settles his hands in his lap.

"Despite what the rest of you say," Marco crouches down to my left and grins calmly. "Hime-sama is best suited for the First Division, hm? We're pretty friendly, right princess? She's strong enough to be in my division, we don't have any girls and missing a proper swordsman."

Ace growls lowly. "You're just saying that because I won Tonto last week, isn't it?"

Marco hides his smirk and shakes his head. "No, no, you have me all wrong, Ace-kun. Unlike you, I'm experienced and I think Hime-sama could really benefit under my command. Whereas you have only been a commander for two months now." My eye twitches. Why am _I _the one being left out of this argument. "Sound about right, Hime-sama?"

"Excuse me, but I-"

"Wouldn't you say the pressure of First Division, or even Second Division work would be too much on such a young girl? Let alone one who has no knowledge of piracy. " I look to Thatch, obviously annoyed. This is going a little far. I'm not a Whitebeard member, and certainly not a pirate. "I am also a swordsman myself, so she would be quite comfortable with me."

"Doesn't it take a good swordsman to command another swordsman?" Haruta mutters.

"Or a strong man to command a strong man?" He hisses back. Man? I am still a woman. I prepare myself to speak up, but am swiftly cut off by Ace.

"Exactly, a strong person can command others! I'll take her under my wing, lighten the load until she's ready and make her into a fine pirate!"

"Well if it's about who is the strongest, isn't it obvious that _I_ should have her?" Asks Marco.

Discreetly, I slip away from the conversation, having realised the futility in arguing. Their arguing did not really regard me, but rather the _men_ were acting like brats, fighting amongst each other's tedious egos. The one I am most interested in on this ship is Whitebeard. For the longest time, back on Wano that is, I had wondered what the infamous Yonko was like. Physically, he matches my assumptions of a pirate lord (aside from being beardless) though his personality is somewhat different. I don't particularly mind, however. If he turned out to be cruel and heartless, then life would be very hard for me. Yet he seems to be level-headed and calm; for the most part anyway.

He watches the party almost tiredly, though as I approach the content glint in his eyes becomes apparent. Like the old man he is, Whitebeard sits slightly slouched in his chair with wires and tubes protruding from his body. There's a respirator machine beside his enormous chair that steadily pumps in time with the rise and fall of his chest.

Whitebeard silently watches me approach and ushers the similarly quite nurses away. I seat myself beside him, knees pointed slight in his direction. "Pleasant party." I say quietly, accepting the sakazuki (flat saucer used for drinking sake) which sits like a thimble on his outstretched finger.

"I thought you might like something more familiar, even if it is just a cup." He explains softly. In a way, Whitebeard reminds me of what a father _should_ be like: strong but kind. Unlike my own who was nothing but harsh and reprimanding. My garnet eyes glaze over at the thought and I nod absent mindedly in reply to the pirate.

For a long while he continues to watch over his 'family', as Ace had called it. I still don't understand why they call it that, though I suppose it creates a strong bond between crew members. Everyone is metaphorically connected to one another with familial ties, so it's no wonder that Whitebeard's crew is supposedly the strongest in the world.

"Are you ill, sir?" I finally ask, silently gesturing to the medical contraptions beeping lazily around him. I keep my voice short and clipped, still respectful of his position.

Whitebeard laughs shortly. "No, child. I'm fine. Damn doctors think I'm getting old or something!" I smile politely and nod in agreement. For a moment I wonder how old he _really_ is, though dismiss it quickly. It would be improper of me to ask anyway.

"Very well. I'll keep that in mind, sir." I notice him frown, so I continue. "Please accept my apologies for such rude, brash behaviour. I am not normally quite so… Dishonourable. I had a very strict upbringing, so this relaxed atmosphere is difficult for me to handle."

"I can imagine." Replies Whitebeard before taking a small sip of sake. "Ace told me about what you were like during the Revolution. He praised you quite a bit, but was also worried about you. He said you lost a lot of people close to you."

"… I did… Sir."

"Did you cry?"

"Of course not." I mutter harshly.

"Why not?"

"Samurai's honour." We say together, though he sounds to be mocking it instead. "It's not my place to tell you that your beliefs are wrong, Siatsuke… But the samurai way is meant for men, no matter what you think. Men aren't as sensitive as women, and even then they shouldn't bottle up their feelings. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I do."

"Believe it or not, I care about you. I was in your position, in a way, as a child. Formed a gang with some friends during the revolution of my own country and lost a lot of good friends and most of my family." He pauses and looks straight into my eyes. "But unlike you, I didn't execute me family. Now I can't imagine what that's like, and I'm sorry for being insensitive, but this 'samurai's way' needs to stop unless you want to cause yourself some serious damage to your heart."

"…"

"Siatsuke, everybody here has lost someone precious to them, and I can assure you they too have grieved. But when you join a family like this, there's always somebody around to pick up the pieces and help you along. Now if you want a family, this one is always open. I know people here already like you, even if you act very stubborn and-"

"I don't want a family." I whisper darkly, letting my hair fall over my eyes as I bow my head forward. Fist clench in my lap, crushing the fabric of my kimono. "How can you… How can you…" By this point my arms are quivering. I bite my lip harshly, struggling to keep in the tears.

"Siatsuke-"

"SHUT UP!" Louder than I had ever spoken, my voice echoes over the deck and across the empty air of the vast ocean. I look up suddenly, glaring into his dark eyes. Behind them, acceptance and peace swirl around, angering me even more. "Why would I ever want a family?" I ask angrily. "Did you think that I would be _unaffected_ by the _death_ of my _family_? Even if I was the one to end their lives, I still love them! And I certainly will not replace them so swiftly. My apologies, Whitebeard-san, but you should not think so lowly of me!"

I feel the eyes of the entire Whitebeard crew on my quivering figure. Since not threatening move is made, none of them stir from their frozen positions. Except that's when it hits me. Similar to when I had first received it, the wound in my heart blossoms with fresh pain. It's hot, wild and uncontrollable. My arms go slack for a moment and I lose power of the tears welling in my eyes. Whitebeard watches me silently until I can no longer hold my stiff position. First, my head falls forward, colliding with the wooden planks of the dais. Next my body jerks and I fall to the floor, unable to move or breathe. My heart beats wildly in my chest, causing more pain than necessary. Tears fall freshly, hidden by my hair. I am thankful for that, though as I vaguely hear footsteps approaching, I know someone will see.

"Siatsuke!" The voice blurs in my ears. Once again, Ace is the first to my aid. I know what comes next. Hopefully this time I don't wake up.


	4. Chapter 4

Unlike before, I awaken knowing exactly where I am. The same wooden paneling and tight walls surround me, as does the thick blanket. My eyesight blurs and I blink slowly, feeling sluggish and dizzy. I lick my dry lips and listen. There's an incessant beeping close to my ears, and after a long while it starts to irritate me. I twist from my back to my side, wires and tubes pulling at my body and stare at the machine beside me. It's a black screen with a thin green line stretching from left to right. The line spikes in time with the beeping in a steady rhythm.

"You weren't asleep long." Says a voice, startling me. My head snaps to the shadowed figure sitting on the foot of the bed. Darkness encompasses the room, and I glare suspiciously at the specter. "It's two in the morning, you better go back to sleep." They add in a helpful tone. I purse my lips but don't move. The dull ache in my chest prevents me from doing so. "Seriously, you should be resting. The Old Man was nuts to let you stay out on the deck."

The person leans forward, catching the moonlight directly on their face. "Ace… San." I mutter. He smiles at me, looking a little strained and very tired. I must've woke him up when I slid to my side.

Cool air circles the room, contrasting the previously hot weather. The walls look a darker brown, though the moonlight cast heavy shadows around the room. Aside from that, only the screen illuminates the room. Waves lapping against the ship can still be heard. For a while, we say nothing to each other.

"How… How long have I been unconscious, Ace-san?" I ask hoarsely, unable to find the usual strength in my voice.

"Mmm… Well you passed out at around one o'clock, so thirteen hours. Doc hooked you up to the heart monitor and did some checkups just in case." He explains. That must mean the infernal beeping contraption beside me is a heart monitor, and I'm assuming the beeps must be my heart beat. Upon realizing this, the sound becomes quite soothing.

"My thanks." I whisper. My cheeks feel tight from, as much as I might hate to admit this, dried tears. Such a coward and a weakling I am. How could I show such weakness in front of Whitebeard?

Ace shuffles up the bed slightly. "Feelin' okay?" He asks. "It was pretty… Scary up on deck." Ace adds quickly, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "I-I mean, you started yelling at Whitebeard all of a sudden, and you were crying. Then you collapsed on your _face_ and had a heart palpitation."

I quirk an eyebrow at him. "I was _not_ crying." I hiss. "Ace-san, forgive me but samurai most certainly do. Not. Cry." For a moment, Ace looks worried, though moments later he laughs. And laughs. And laughs, and laughs, and laughs. My lips threatens to curl as I stare at him from my side position, glaring hotly at him. "I hardly think this is the appropriate time to-"

"S-Sorry," he chuckles. "It's just you remind me of myself when I was a kid."

"Are you insinuating that I am but still a child?"

"No! No, of course not." Ace is still smiling, yet he sobers. I frown at his sudden change in demeanor. His shoulders slouch slightly, eyes fall to the sheets and grin flattens to a dull smile. "When I was younger, and still now I guess, I hated it when people thought I was weak. I just wanted to prove to everyone how tough I was. I hated my father and what I was born as, and I hate the things he did. My family defined who I was and what I did, which still makes me what I am today." Exhaling slowly, he finally raises his dark eyes to my bloody ones. "And I couldn't just be happy. But now I am."

I curse myself, hating his words. I try to reject them, spit on them and call him a liar. Yet, our lives are tragically similar. Father, the Emperor, had always been the subject of my resentment. The family I was born into was hardly a noble one, in spite of their nobility. Even now, after their deaths, though by my hand, I hate them for what they made me do. It was my choice, but they chose their paths.

And my strength… In this world where people are so different to the ones I have grown up around, 'honour' and 'strength' are entirely apart. This whole time, I have been humiliating myself by not accepting that my family is dead, I am not a princess and this is not Wano. All of these things, these things I thought I had accepted, that I had let go of, were still plaguing me. When the revolution had ended, a few days before my family's execution and we were still in the process of clearing the castle and capturing them, I thought I had accepted what I needed to sacrifice… Apparently I couldn't let go…

Now, however, I feel my bottom lip tremble. My vision blurs and swims. I feel a whine ripping at the back of my throat. Mother, Father, Taito, Ishi, Enimon… Wano… My childhood and innocence… Rido…

I did not love Rido, though there was something special with him. That I know for sure. He had always told me how beautiful, strong and intelligent I was, though behind his devastatingly kind eyes, I could see the resentment he held for my name: Teranobu. I never spoke to him of it, we never shared anything physical, yet Rido was the one I chose. And for that, he was murdered.

"Ace-san…" The cracking in my voice is loud. I feel the hot tears falling from my eyes, across my face and to the pillow. I feel the space near my waist dip as Ace sits closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. His surprise is obvious when I don't shake him off. Rubbing my arm tenderly, he begins to talk in a slightly hushed tone.

"Did you know I have a little brother?" He asks, not expecting a reply. Tears continue to drip down my face, though I decide to listen. "His name's Luffy. Dumb kid, like really, _really_ dumb. I swear a sheep would be smarter than him, but he's a good person. Anyway, he wants to be the Pirate King, which is sad because I want to make Whitebeard the King. You might not know what the Pirate King is, but it's whoever finds the One Piece at the end of the Grandline." Ace pauses as he gets caught up in the story. "I remember, when we were younger, we had another brother named Sabo. Sabo was a noble, but he hated his parents also. Sabo hated everything and anything to do with the nobility because of how awfully they treated the 'commoners'. So Sabo, Luffy and I were out hunting this giant tiger-"

"A giant tiger?" I sniffle incredulously.

As his eyes widen subtly, noticing my interest in the story, he shakes himself and continues. "Yeah, a giant tiger. Meanest bastard you'd ever see. He was the king of the mountains. So anyway, we got into this fight. I don't even remember what we were fighting over, but Sabo kept trying to break up the fight, since it was mainly between me and Luffy. Luffy was a brat and crybaby back then, so he used to shout random nonsense. But I remember Sabo getting so mad at both of us, because we were acting so terribly, and he complained that even though all of us had such hard lives, we were brothers and couldn't treat each other in such a way."

It sounds like he really gets along with his brothers. Until the end, I hadn't realised that the tears had stopped. I gingerly touch my cheek. It's still wet, but nothing more comes. Ace stares at the corner of the room, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Comfortable silence stretches on.

"Ace…" I leave out the honorific. "I… Thank you." My voice sounds weak and limp as I speak. Awkwardly, and with quite a good deal of help, I pull myself up into a seated position. "Thank you. My simple thanks is surely not enough to express my heartfelt gratitude to you. I-"

"Hold up, Hime-sama. You don't have to be so formal anymore." Patting my head in a friendly manner, Ace shrugs and continues. "It's no problem at all."

For a moment, I merely forget. All sense of sensibility slips through my clenched hands as I lean towards him. I can hear all my cries of dignity and self-worth in the back of my mind, the noise crowding my mind. A brief second passes as I press my lips to his. It's barely a kiss, or even a touch for that matter and soon I withdraw slightly. Fuzzy thoughts mull around my head as I try to make a coherent decision.

Ace's surprised eyes dart over my sleek hair, delicate features and disheveled kimono. He seems indecisive but not against it. I push forward again, this time a little more eager. I engage more in kissing this time, placing my hands on his bare chest. The kiss is awkward and unsure at first, barely the loving or perfect one most girls might imagine.

Still not accepting or refusing, he merely sits there, staring hopelessly. There is no spark, no ignition of passion and love, but instead accepting and careful. Unsure of what to do, I gently scrape the back of my nails against Ace's ribs, warranting a small shiver from the pirate. Finally, a proper response. He gives back a little, shifting his body in response. Turning more in my direction, he kisses back after slight hesitation. Teeth graze along my bottom lip and a hand finds its way to my lower thigh. My mind races as I consider what I should be doing with _my_ hands.

Gingerly, I place one hand on his and the other tugs at his inky hair. Ace's slides up my thigh, making me shiver uncomfortably. I can feel his hands becoming too eager now. I pull away to breathe, the heat still buzzing in the centre of my chest, spreading outwards to my fingertips and toes. I untangle my fingers from his hair and pull both my hands back to myself, shuffling back to the head board. I'm lost for breath, staring at an equally surprised Ace.

My lips feel like they're on fire. Before I know it, the beeping of the heart monitor is beating far faster than it ever has reaches my ears, ringing cruelly like a reminder of what I had started only a few seconds ago.

In my mouth, my tongue feels swollen and useless. "A-A-Ace, my-my apologies, I d-didn't mean for- to ac-act out of pl-place." Blood rushes, causing a hot blush to rise. I shield myself with my hands and the ache in my chest increases from my quickening heartbeat.

Ace smirks widely, leaning back on his hands. He looks quite calm in spite of my disgraceful behaviour, instead taking it positively. "Naw, it's cool. Didn't think you would do that, surprised me actually, but it was… Fun." He kneads the blanket between his thumb and index finger before rising to his feet. The moonlight reflects off his amused eyes before he turns to leave. "Get some sleep, Siatsuke." He waves over his shoulder and leaves.

The door clicks gently behind him.

Alone with my thoughts, I slip back under the blankets, wishing to hide forever. Such a whorish behaviour is not tolerable, especially considering my status as a guest on this ship. Having no idea what came over me, I pull the sheets over me even tighter. They constrict and shield me, hiding my vulnerability from the world. Oh god… What have I done?

_"I am honoured to meet such appraised guests of Wano as yourselves." The young princess says clearly, bowing in greeting. It's a short, controlled one that protects her neck from being bared and keeps her body in a protected position. She looks over her supporters carefully._

_The first, clearly foreign, is a tall man sporting an open purple shirt and a broad, similarly coloured tattoo on his chest. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the tuft of blonde hair atop his head, marveling silently at the colour. _

_Unlike the first, the second man looks less like a pirate and more like some sort of chef. His brunette hair is curled into a pompadour and scar curving around his right eye. Seemingly friendlier, the man grins good-heartedly, unaware of the scrutinizing stares of the surrounding samurai._

_Finally, Siatsuke looks at the youngest of the Whitebeard pirates. Shirtless, fit and barely foreign-looking with inky black hair and eyes. He stared back coolly before giving her a polite smile. He addressed her with as much respect and reverence as he could muster. "Nice to meet ya, Hime-sama. We're honoured to help you out."_

_Staring at him for a few more moments than necessary, specifically his lack of clothing, Siatsuke then turns to her second-in-command, Kin'emon. "Secure a safe zone in which I will be able to discuss an alliance and procure something for our guests to eat." She looks back at the three pirates who are in awe of the sakura village of Fujikoza. "Might I assume that you are famished?"_

_The youngest beams at the thought of food. "Lead the way, Hime-sama!"_

_Rido glares in slight disgust, tousling his loose ponytail with an annoyed expression. His lover's lingering gaze on the youngest pirate, as far from romantic as it had been, frustrated the man to no ends. It was his pride that brought such affections to Siatsuke. To have the most beautiful, intelligent and well-respected geisha, not minding her warrior side, was the greatest thing he could boast. And he was not about to lose her to some _pirate_. _

_Following the princess with due haste, the pirates are tailed by Rido who is intent on keeping them inline. Such arrogance would soon be his end…_

Breakfast is awkward, to say the least. Not because of my encounter with Ace during the night, which certainly brings a hot blush to my face at the thought, but due to the staring. Having sobered up since yesterday, the rest of the crew has properly acknowledged my existence on the Moby Dick.

Ignoring their pointed staring and whispers, I stare down at the plate of food on the table in front of me. As far as I can tell there are eggs, cooked in the style normally for ramen (pan-fried), strips of pinkish meat that smells familiar to pork (bacon) and a tan-coloured brittle square with butter (toast). I stare at it for a few moments, before looking up and to Thatch to my left.

"Thatch-san, what is this, may I ask?"

He splutters on the orange drink (juice), spraying it across the table and onto the unsuspecting face of a fellow crewmember. Coughing, the man finally says, "Y-You don't know?" Watching me with wide eyes, Thatch wipes the liquid off his chin and hands with a napkin.

"My apologies." I reply quietly. "I have never seen this type of meat or…" I poke the brittle square with the metal utensil called a 'fahk', or 'fork', I can't quite remember. "This… Whatever this may be. And please do explain this _fahk_, as you call it. I am confused as to how to use it, Thatch-san."

Thatch laughs, along with Teach who is seated opposite me. I give him a distasteful look and roll my eyes at the man beside me, choosing to ignore him. Turning over a new leaf on this ship requires that I accustom myself to their culture and let go of what I used to be, starting with holding back the offense dealt at such humiliation. I must admit it has been trying thus-far, considering I have been labeled incompetent by Thatch as I was unused to fetching my own breakfast.

"The meat is bacon, it's basically just strips of pork that've been fried, y'know?" He points to the brittle square with his fahk (fork). "This is toast. I noticed you didn't have bread in Wano, but this is just wheat, yeast and water. Oh, and it's _fork_, not 'fahk'. People'll think you're sayin' fuck, so be careful."

"I would never use such vulgar language!" I exclaim, pressing a hand to my chest in mock offense. Obviously my attempted humour goes unnoticed by all except Teach, to my annoyance. "May I ask of the whereabouts of Marco-san this morning?"

Shoveling food into his mouth, Thatch looks up briefly and jerks thumb over his shoulder. "He eats breakfast with Whitebeard," is all he says. I noticed he either stabs his food with the prongs of his _fork_, or scoops it up with the flat edges. "You gonna eat?"

"Yes, I simply fail to see the practicality of forks." I mutter. "Chopsticks are far more sophisticated and useful."

"But then you can't do this!" He takes a large rasher of bacon with the fork and put it to his mouth before ripping it in half and chewing on one end. It's greasy and unattractive, causing me to pull a disgusted expression.

I pretend to gag, as I had seen Izo previously do, and push my plate towards him. "Thatch-san, if you intended to make me lose my appetite, I do believe you have succeeded." The plate makes a chalky sound as it grates its way across the hardwood table and towards Thatch. He takes it greedily before eyeing me careful.

"… Was that a joke?" He asks warily.

"An attempt, yes."

"Not too shabby, Hime-sama." Shoving a piece of egg in his mouth, he waves his fork in my direction. "Still needs work though. Your humour is shit… Since when did _you_ make jokes?"

I cross my arms over my chest, just below my breasts. Dark eyes drop from my face to the bust line of my kimono. "Correct me if I am wrong, but it is not entirely farfetched that I am capable of having a sense of humour."

"Erm, well it's you so… Anyway, you're different… I like it!" Eyes return to my face and a resist the urge to snap at him for such impertinence. "You're not so uptight. Keep up the good work!" Thatch cheers mockingly.

From the other side of the table, Teach says, "Commander Ace was with you until quite late last night, Hime-sama." I freeze up. The muscles on my back and in my arms tense up, causing me to become deathly still. Looking away from Thatch, I suppress a glare for Teach. "Do you know what he was doing?"

"That," I reply evenly. "I do not know." Teach laughs slowly, a low, rumbling laugh that sets me on edge. This man, whose front teeth are almost gone, gut hanging over his belt and eyes red-rimmed, seems to know more than he really should.

"Really? Cos it seems when he returned he was quite pleased with himself."

"Perhaps Ace raided the fridge during the night which is, frankly, none of my concern. Pardon my brashness, Teach-san."

"No honorific? A little forward, Hime-sama." He smirks dirtily, causing me to flinch inwardly and curse mentally. This man is becoming a serious thorn in my side. Thatch looks in between us, not quite understanding.

"What are you two going on about?"

Teach ignores him, saying, "I would've thought Commander Ace was none o' your concern, you don't need to tell me where he was last night, right?"

"Teach-san, forgive me but I'd like to know where this conversation is headed, specifically. I'm quite aware that what Ace-san does in the middle of the night is none of my concern, and I'm sure since he is your _commander_, it is not your place to question him… _Right_?"

"Well he would've been with you, Hime-sama." Thatch explains carefully, obviously stepping on hot wires. "Cap'ain had Ace stay with you last night to make sure you didn't go into cardiac arrest, since Doc was exhausted and needed some serious rest."

I eye Teach coolly, leveling my head slowly and smile politely at him. "Oh, is that so? I suppose it would be appropriate that I thank Ace…-san."

"Or fuck him again." I hear Teach mutter into his sake cup.

I, along with Thatch, freeze almost immediately. Struggling to keep the fervent blush from my face, I glare hotly at the man opposite me. How dare he insinuate something like that!? It is entirely inappropriate and wildly untrue. A shudder runs down my spine. Beside me, Thatch looks uncomfortably at me from the corner of his eye. His mouth is pulled into a tight grimace and he lowers his fork to his plate. Gingerly, the man wipes his mouth and stares at Teach with such intensity that Teach looks as if to back down for the briefest moment.

"I should hand you over to Ace-kun, considering how _disgustingly offensive_ that is to both Hime-sama and _your_ commander." Thatch spits. "Now fuck off, Teach, before I have to get serious."

Frowning intently, Teach stands silently, sends me a pointedly look followed by a crooked smirk and leaves. Behind him, a trail of awkward silence follows. I watch his cloaked back until he's gone from the mess hall before looking back down at the table. Unlike before, when the whispering had been purely about my physical appearance and status as a former princess, the whispers shifted to what 'disgusting and offensive' thing Teach had said about both Ace and myself. The man opposite Thatch stares at me with speculative eyes that wander over my body, before going back to his food.

Eventually, the menial chatter starts up again.

I exhale the breath I hadn't realised I was holding, and rub my face. "Sorry about him, Hime-sama. Teach gets out of hand sometimes."

I shake my head. "No, no, it's quite alright. If anything, I am accustomed to such disgraceful rumours. Only, it's simply startling to have such a… Thing said to my face."

Thatch pats my shoulder. "Aye, don't worry too much about it. I know you wouldn't do anything even remotely like that with Ace."

Oh how I wish that your innocent faith in me could be true. If he'd known of my licentious behaviour last night, and my eagerness to discard my dignity with his friend, it would be in his best interest to take back that comment. I hang my head in shame for myself, something Thatch mistakes for embarrassment. Although it was only a few kisses and touching, such a lack in self-control is unacceptable.

I blink at the table. "I appreciate your loyalty," is all I can say. Looking up, eyes half-lidded in humiliation, the first and only thing to capture my eye is the man silently approaching the table, a grin sitting smugly on his face. In his hand is a plate piled high with bacon, eggs and toast, almost higher than his head.

Staring incredulously at the pile, I then shift my attention to Ace. He seats himself in Teach's previous spot opposite me. Much like a child, Ace rubs his hands together before smiling excitedly at his food. "So what are we talking about?"

"Nothing much." Thatch says absent mindedly. I ignore his pointed look and instead pull my waist-length hair over my shoulder to begin a braid. The silky, raven strands slip in between my fingers easily as I avoid looking directly at the man opposite me.

Ace seems unaffected by my presence, allowing me to relax somewhat. "Did you hear? We'll be at Funisha soon enough, maybe another day or so." Unlike any human I have ever seen, he abandons his fork and simply wrestles food into his overflowing mouth. "Sooner if the weather continues like-" At this point Ace's neck goes slack, causing him to collapse in both the chair and on top of the table, body limp as a dead man's. For a moment it doesn't appear as if he's breathing, though after a few seconds, he lets out a rattling snore.

Thatch sighs beside me, shaking his head. "Is it sad that I've already gotten used to this?" He rolls his eyes before standing, taking his plate with him. "Anyway, I've actually got work to do today. _Training_, and all that. Maybe when you're up to it, you should join us some time. Perhaps get placed in a division?"

Not this again. "Thatch-san, I truly to appreciate your offer but-"

"Oh your sword! You need that don't you?"

"Forgive me, but that's not what I, I mean yes I need it, but I was going to say-"

Once again, I am interrupted. "When Ace wakes up, have him introduce you to our blacksmith, a'right?" I stammer a response, loathing the thought of being alone with Ace, though I am too late. "See ya later, Hime-sama." I watch him disappear into an unfamiliar hallway.

Soon enough, much of the mess hall is emptied, including free of Marco, Whitebeard and all of the commanders. Only lulling conversations throughout the wide expanse of the hall can be heard, none of which are distinguishable from my position, and unfortunately for me, without Thatch I would have no idea how to get out of her. For now, I am forced to wait for Ace.

Startling me, his head snaps up and he blinks blearily. There's a small square of food that falls from his inky black hair as he rubs his head. I watch him blankly, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence.

Dark eyes flicker up to me, grinning briefly, before he continues on with his food. "Our blacksmith, eh?" Oh, so he must've been awake for the conversation between Thatch and myself at the very least. "I can take you there. Training is tomorrow for me, so I got time."

"Please do not trouble yourself, Ace-san. I am able to care for myself, though I thank you for the concern. Just give me directions and I'll be on my way."

"Nah, nah, lemme show the way! What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn't escort a lady?" He asks, a strip of bacon dangling from his mouth as he struggles to annunciate through all the food threatening to choke him. He shovels one last mouth full past his lips and swallows it near-whole, before standing languidly.

Forgetting his plate, he motions for me to follow and, unwilling to make things any more awkward as they feel for me, I do so without question. We walk in relative silence on my behalf, though Ace chats casually, warranting very little more than one or two words answers from me. Mostly he talks about his younger brother Luffy, the one he mentioned last night (which at the mere thought brings a slight blush to my cheeks), though strangely not the other brother, Sabo. I say not a word of this, of course.

The halls aren't deserted, not until we reach the door of the obviously super-heated smithing room. It's near the bottom of the Moby Dick and I can see the glow of heat from the gaps in the doorway.

Ace turns to me, in the abandoned halls of the lowest part of the Moby Dick, wearing a silent smirk. Before I know what's happening, kisses are being peppered along my jawline, neck and collarbone. I yelp in surprise, shivering at the sudden action. Ace allows me to pull away, the smirk still hanging off his lips. My garnet eyes stare at him with a mix of horror, surprise and confusion.

"A-Ace-san! That's-" I stumble over my hopeless words, only to be cut off again.

"Only a bit of fun." He finishes for me, shrugging casually. Like the pirate he is, he doesn't seem to care one little bit. "Oi, oi, don't blame me, Hime-sama! You're the one who started it, remember?"

I glare at him, annoyed. "In spite of what might have happened last night, it is truly shameful of me to allow something like this to repeat itself. For both of our sakes, I suggest you do not act out of place in such a manner again, Ace-"

"Good luck with your sword, Siatsuke." Ace murmurs, placing a sharper kiss to my lips. Quicker than I can react, the man is gone in a wisp of fire and slightly charred wood.

- Hai :3 Well thank you to everyone who is reading. I appreciate it. First story, hope it's going okay. Please even if it's a one word review, please let me know what you think of this story and if anything needs to be done to fix it. Thanks ^-^ -


	5. Chapter 5

_"Did you hear about the princess..?"_

_"I thought we weren't allowed to talk about her though."_

_"Yeah, well I heard she and Ace have been going at it for the past week."_

_"Wh-What!? Really?"_

_"It's true! Apparently they even screwed around on the first night after she woke up."_

_"Yeah, but that doesn't mean-"_

_"Ox-san also said he saw the princess come onto Commander Ace."_

_"No… That's gotta be a lie! Commander Marco even said so…"_

_"Of course he'd say that!"_

_"Even so… It's not like Ace is serious, right?"_

_"No, of course not. Ace is rarely serious."_

_"Except for when Teach had a go at Hime-sama."_

_"Well that only proves they've been going at it, doesn't it!?"_

_"I suppose…"_

Watching Ace silently, I finger the intricate pattern of the katana at my hip. The weight feels so comforting and natural, like all along I had been missing something so vitally important. The handle is a cold, unfeeling dragon that curls up at the end near my wrist, mouth gaping to receive any blood that might run down the length of the katana. Inside its snake-skin pattern sheathe, the blade has a flawless black sheen. A Saijo O Wazamono, one of the twelve greatest swords ever crafted. Naturally, it is one of Wano's national treasures. Endai Kitetsu, and like its Shodai cousin, this blade is cursed. From the misery, heartache and bloodshed it has brought, I believe ever damming rumour about it.

"Leave me be, Ace." I mutter, flicking hair over my slim shoulder. He rolls his eyes and places a fist on his hip, seemingly amused with my behaviour. With a wry grin, he blows gently on my face causing loose strands of hair to flutter about. I set a strong glare and push on the sword guard, threatening him with my katana. Dark eyes barely flicker at the sound of metal separating.

Two weeks. Two weeks I have managed to survive on this ship. There are so few women on this ship, and those that are around are twice my age and hardly different from the men, aside from their perverseness. That is something I simply _cannot_ stand about being trapped here. Though I have had the chance to leave whenever we dock, I have no idea about how this world outside of Wano works. The offer from the Revolutionary Army, a group working towards changing the world like I had, sounds appealing, and quite frankly I am willing to accept it at this point.

Ace clicks his tongue and leans down slightly and I jerk my head back sharply. I can feel his warm breath fanning over my face. I step backwards, only to feel a wall at my back. The smooth wood blocks my escape route, so now my only choice is to move forward.

"Ace, I must ask you to leave now." I stare him levelly in the eyes. That damn grin is still plastered on his face.

"Siatsuke," he wines. "I can tell you've been avoiding me."

"I believe not. My sole aim thus far has to establish myself so that I may adapt and leave as soon as I am able."

"Exactly, you've been avoiding me."

He takes a small step closer. From here I can see the narrow door of my equally narrow room. "You are misunderstanding, Ace." I raise my hands and push him away quite forcefully. He stumbles in shock but then stands firm.

Hardening his stance, Ace asks, "And _what_ am I misunderstanding?" Then his expression changes to an utterly confused when. I wince slightly when I see it. Admittedly, over the past two weeks, I have been avoiding him. Unintentionally, of course. Ace, as he has said many times, strives to live life without regrets. And to live without regrets it seems he simply cannot pass up the opportunity to 'get with' a princess, whatever that may mean. Rumours circulate fast, and as quickly as I may try to quell them, some do not stop. "Wait, you're leaving?"

"That is correct. Dragon-san offered me an officer's position within his own army, a true and unexpected honour. It seems that my actions and speech during the revolution of my own homeland was something of an inspiration. For that, I believe I might even have an opportunity to make something of myself." I pause and look at the floor. "_Without _regrets."

_"Siatsuke, it's just a bit of fun." That line again… Every time, after every kiss, after every touch, after every time she pushes him away. '_It's just a bit of fun_'… Ace would never be serious, she knows that much. It's more than obvious, and not only to Siatsuke. She suspects Marco, Thatch, Teach and possible even Whitebeard know about their… Going-ons. It's shameful, disgusting, humiliating. Perhaps to a pirate such as Ace, licentious behaviour isn't uncommon. Though for Siatsuke, like any girl, she can only wish it meant something. Anything._

_"Please, Ace." Siatsuke counters in the softest voice. She can barely hear the waves anymore, and the world is as quiet as a ghost-ship. Occasionally the wood creaks or a snore cracks through the silence, but aside from that she can only hear the two of them. "Prior to being a princess, or a samurai or even a girl, my core is human. Expect nothing less from me, I am but a human also. And _this_ is not merely a 'bit of fun' to me."_

_His eyes widen slightly, staring down at his. Hovering his body above hers, Ace simply watches. "What do you mean-?"_

_"However it is that you wish to interpret what I said, if you want to _fuck_ -considering how trivial this is to you- at least create a falsity of affection."_

_With a small hitch in his breathing, Ace pulls away from her, looking out of the porthole. There was no other real way to take it. 'And this is not merely a "bit of fun" to me'… Siatsuke is serious. Of course in the sense that she isn't joking around (since that isn't in her nature), but more about their relationship. A proper lover's relationship with mutual affection… Ace screams inwardly. It would never work, for him at the very least. Though she might understand on some level, Siatsuke wouldn't be able to care for the son of such a hated human being. Nobody could. Nothing serious could happen between the pair, no matter how much Siatsuke might wish._

_For now, her feelings are obvious…_

"I don't know _why_ you think you're going to regret it, Siatsuke." Ace replies. As of yet, he remains the only person (aside from Whitebeard) who calls me only by my given name. As of yet, I still feel an uncomfortable warmth in my chest whenever he does so.

I place my right hand on his left bicep and push him aside. Never have I felt this exposed. My emotions are running rampart, and at the moment I need to bring them under control. My belly is a mixture of sickness and pleasure. Anxiety over Ace's negligence towards how I might feel about sleeping with him, and unbridled joy at his attention. I'm not sure when all this began, maybe when he became serious with his advances…

_It was undoubtedly a gorgeous evening, what with the summer-coloured sky and dying sun. Never in her life, had Siatsuke seen such beauty on the open ocean. She slouches down against the railing furthest from the range horizon. Without realizing, a shadow falls upon her._

_Looking up, she catches the pleasant face of Ace. He squats beside her wordlessly and watches. "This is one of the things I like about sailing." He finally says once the sun is gone. The colours change from warm to cooling so quickly that Siatsuke drops her gaze in disappointment. It had been so beautiful… "We never had sunsets like this back on my home island. Mainly because you couldn't see the horizon."_

_Siatsuke glances at him from the corner of her ruby eyes, but makes no movements. Still as a statue, she simply sits, feeling the air grow cool around her. The deck empties soon enough, though somebody remains in the crow's nest. It's a calm night so there's no need for anyone to remain on deck._

_The glow from below deck, specifically the mess hall, illuminates one half of the deck._

_"Ace, forgive me if I am being too forward, but do you miss your family?" She finally asks. For a few days, things had been awkward between them. Without such a somber atmosphere, Siatsuke would be all blushes and irritation. Though now was not the time for that._

_He turns his head to look at her. "Luffy? Not really. Like I said, he's a dumbass and sometimes I think I'm better off without him." At this, the poor girl as a physical reaction, her chest lurches and she hangs her head. Seeing his mistake, Ace quickly waves his hands in front of his face. "But, when I think about him and how much he'll be growing up before I see him next, sometimes I regret leaving him behind… Ah, that's a regret. Well not really, I wouldn't trade this lifestyle for anything." Raising her head, Siatsuke stares at the horizon once more._

_Something uncomfortable, unnatural and totally foreign tickles at her chest. It seeps into Siatsuke's fractured heart like the beginnings of a raging river. Warm and comforting like the sun, but also as violent as a waterfall. _

_Her breathing picks up slightly._

_"Like I get to go to amazing places, do unimaginable things and meet the greatest friends I'll ever have. A family, really." Ace says, still watching her. "People like you, to be honest." He rubs the back of his head awkwardly as her attention suddenly snaps to the pirate. "I mean, it's not every day you meet a princess. Especially one who's willing to let me do this!" Without warning, he swiftly crashes his lips into hers, catching her by surprise. For a few moments, Siatstuke makes not a move._

_Striking him fiercely with the dragon-faced hilt of her katana, Siatsuke knocks the wind from his body and smacks his hands off of her. "Ace! Please control yourself!"_

_A few coughs follow and Ace rubs his toned stomach. "Ahahah, too sudden?" He laughs again, tilting his orange cowboy hat forward to shadow his eyes. Siatsuke resists a snort at his attempt to regain his dignity. _Failed _attempt. "Well we have a while, don't we, Siatsuke?"_

_"Such delusions-!"_

_He grabs her wrist a hauls the princess to her feet somewhat brashly, forcing another kiss on her. "Think of it as a bit of fun…"_

Or after being propositioned by Monkey D. Dragon…

_Marco, being the _gentleman_ he is, places the exhausted looking den den mushi into Siatsuke's hand, waves over his shoulder and says, "It's Dragon, from the Revolutionary Army, play nice, Hime-sama!"_

_Glaring at his retreating figure, she sighs at his over bluntness. From what she had heard, the man who had given his support from the sidelines, also known as Monkey D. Dragon, was an incredibly influential and equally dangerous man. As they say, the world's most wanted. For simply fighting for a better future, he is branded as worse than the worst criminals._

_Boddop-boddop._

_Boddop-boddop._

_Boddop-boddop._

_Boddop-boddo-_

_"Moshi moshi?" She says in a clipped voice in the receiver. The snail seems to spring to life at this point. Even his den den mushi seems suspicious, considering the little hood covering most of its shell and eyes and the harsh expression on its dark face._

_There's a short moment of silence. "Teranobu Siatsuke?" She grits her teeth. "It's nice to know you're alive and actually made it." His voice is deep and smooth, just as it had been last time they spoke._

_"Perhaps if somebody were out for my blood, one could suggest that they try a little harder next time." Lips curl into a sadistic smirk. Certainly, it is considerably harder to kill Siatsuke as compared to any normal girl, princess or even experienced fighter. Durability, skill and agility have kept her alive thus far, and only somebody far superior in all areas would hold a candle to killing her. Perhaps not defeating Siatsuke, but in ending her life._

_The man laughs from the other side. It's slow and nearly humourless. "That's true. Well, Teranobu-san," she hisses into the receiver, showing her aggravation. "Siatsuke-san, I'm afraid we need to keep this conversation short and blunt. The Revolutionary Army, meaning my own efforts as well as the support from my nakama, was not only for the sake of Wano. No, before you initiated your attacks, we were interested in recruiting you for your outstanding initiative and perception. Understood?"_

_"Yes. May I ask that you skip to the point, sir?"_

_"Certainly. What I need to ask is this: would you be willing to join the Revolutionary Army as an agent officer? Your responsibilities will mostly be aiding in revolutions that are started by the civilians and helping them along in that. Do you accept?"_

_"Presumably I will be ending my time with the Whitebeard pirates?" She asks. She fears for a tremor in her voice, though luckily it remains steady._

_"Yes. It's unlikely that you'll never see them again, but yes you'll be leaving them." Dragon replies tonelessly._

_The very thought sends a constricting vice grip straight to her heart. Leg muscles contract and shoulders tense. Siatsuke's breath freezes in her throat before she lets out a prolonged sigh. At this point, these adverse reactions cause her to hate herself. The cause is obvious, as is the root issue. Ace is the core, and her fear of never seeing him again is the cause. Alone in her room, Siatsuke leans against the wall and slides down into a seated position. For a few moments she berates herself. Such weakness and disgusting desires are too shameful- too dishonourable. She casts a weary look at the door, bloody eyes disappointed and ashamed._

_"Forgive me for asking such a foolish question, Dragon-san…"_

_"Go on."_

_"May I think about it, sir?"_

_"Three days, Siatsuke-san." He replies. "Only three days."_

Yes, perhaps it was then that I realised none of this was just fun.

"If you will, Ace… Follow me." I whisper, voice hoarse and coated in sadness. My heart jerks at the worried look he sends my way. Please do not worry for me. What's so fun about that, right? This'll be another good time for him, and another horrible memory for me. Or maybe just a memory for me. Like Dragon said, it's unlikely that I'll never see Ace again, though then again it's possible. Live life without regrets, that's what he said.

The door is barely three feet wide. Beyond this, is a small room, a small window and a bed a little too large for the space. I push it open and it makes no sound. Behind me, I hear Ace slip off his trademark hat. Similarly, I pull my katana from the obi around my waist and lay it in the corner of the room. It's quite late already, so the moon is already high above the Moby Dick and very little light wafts in through the porthole. Sliding my reed shoes off, I stare at my small feet. Whether or not this is the right decision is irrelevant now. It would be more regrettable to have never fallen in love and be miserable, than to fall in love and be miserable regardless. Mother always said that, though I never understood why.

I begin to untie my obi, letting the soft fabric drop to the floor and approach the double bed. Unlike any expression I have ever seen him wear, Ace watches me with a softness to his eyes. His shoes are already off. "It doesn't feel right forced."

Quirking an eyebrow, I approach and push him back onto the mattress, saying, "Why is a man so quick to flee after testing the water?" While I straddle his waist, my hands skim gently over his chest and ribs, then down to his stomach. He shudders. "Do not believe this is forced, Ace-kun. I beg of you, only this."

Needing no further encouragement, the man reaches up to slide the kimono off my shoulders. I allow him to do so as I play with his belt, occasionally pulling and tugging on it, though never removing it. I wriggle out of the kimono and it drops to the floor, leaving me only in my wrappings and underwear. He runs his heated hands up and down my back, leaving little red marks as he does. I lean down and press my lips to his, willing every ounce of love and affection I can muster into it. What I cannot express with words, I'll show with my actions.

His arms circle around my waist and we roll over. Staring at me from above, Ace quickly litters my neck and jawline with small kisses. They're light but aggressive, trailing down the side of my neck and to my collarbone.

I work my hands around to his back and skim my nails along his back, feeling his shoulder blades, ribs and spine. Ace shivers and bears his weight down on me. For a moment, I nearly consider pushing him off as his weight begins to suffocate me, though he lifts himself a little to fiddle with the wrappings around my chest.

Knees beside my thighs and hips crushing almost painfully into mine, he supports himself on one forearm to the side of my head while the other is preoccupied with my wrappings. He finds the fold holding them together and quickly loosens it, sliding the almost unnecessary fabric off my body. Flushing with embarrassment at Ace's unashamed staring, I slide my arms up around his neck and pull him close, latching my lips onto the crook of his neck.

He relaxes in order to run his hands up my sides, feelings every inch in skin. Shifting, I yelp softly as his hip drives into the lowest part of my stomach. For a moment, he doesn't move, causing me to wriggle uncomfortably, but eventually he slides across my hips.

"Siatsuke… Mmmm…" He moans when one hand tangles in his messy hair and the other plays dangerously at his pants line. "My pants. Take them off."

I mumble in to his neck. I know… I will not regret this. What I'll regret is that Ace can never return my affection, or rather my love. I'd like to think this 'fun' is motivated by more than just lust, though deep down I know there's nothing there. This one-sided love will always be just that. One-sided.

Here goes nothing. The belt buckle comes undone with a small _click_.

_"Ne, Hime-sama?" Ace mumbles, weaving the flat, cone-shaped straw hat with obviously difficult. Siatsuke looks up and fiddles with some of the weaves, before handing back the half finished hat. He watches her delicate hands carefully fix some of his mistakes. She's not half bad once you get to know her, though the princess can be a handful at times._

_"Mm?" Bloody eyes never leave his weavings. Watching, always watching._

_Sticking half of his tongue out of the side of his mouth, Ace slips the reeds and straws in, around and through each other, still focused on his task. "Do you still love your family?"_

_The question catches Siatsuke, along with the other samurai, Revolutionary agents and Whitebeard pair by surprise. She freezes. Rain continues to pour down around their shelter under a sprawling tree, water birds do not cease to sing and the river still dances loudly in front of them. _

_"Of course." She replies, voice unchanging though barely above the rain. "Love and learn the loved one's vices, hate and learn the hated one's virtues."_

_"By Sarutobi Harada?" Kin'emon asks._

_"Hai. Despite what they are, or rather what they have become, I loved them before and I must confess to loving them now." Siatsuke explains, bowing her head in deep shame. "I beg to forgive that that is my nature."_


	6. Chapter 6

- I'm sorry about how quickly everything escalated in the last chapter, but people have been asking about Law, so I needed to compress a couple of chapters into one-

Sometimes, for one reason or another, my emotional side overrules the other rational side. More often than not it leads to trouble. I believe this constitutes one of those times. Breathing heavily, skin-to-skin, Ace slides off me. Since he is much large, he takes up significantly more space on the bed than I. Inky and bloody eyes stare at one another. I lean down on my elbow from my side and dare to gently kiss his cheek.

Ace does not react. I wouldn't have expected him to. Such actions, one could assume are reserved for lovers. People who are in love. "You're different." He says with a short yawn. The words are slightly muffled by a pillow. I look at him strangely, almost disbelievingly. "It only took you a few weeks to change so much."

"I do believe I had been developing character whilst in Wano also, Ace." He mumbles in reply. Half of his face is pressed deeply into a pillow, covering a good portion of his mouth, while the rest is covered in a faint sheen of sweat. I stare at him silently, taking in his wavy, sweat-streaked hair, coal-black eyes and lightly tanned skin. His broad, muscular back and Whitebeard mark. The tired and content expression on his face. It's obvious he will soon fall asleep, as much as I wish he wouldn't. What _I_ want now doesn't particularly matter, I suppose. I am not Ace's lover, girlfriend or wife. Perhaps a romantic interest, something that makes my heart flutter at the mere thought. Alas, maybe not even that.

This doesn't seem all too romantic, does it? As a child, I never expected much in the way of love or romance. I was a pawn for my father from which he could reap the rewards of my arranged marriage. However, from growing independent from my family at the age of thirteen, I had been away that maybe I had a chance, any chance at all to fall in love. After marriage, most likely, but still it would be love. Rido was, or as far as I had thought, close to me. I cared for him, yet not in the same way I care for Ace. Together, Rido and I got along relatively well, but nothing more. I had misunderstood the term 'lover'.

Ace however is a different story. I was naïve to think that the one I would come to love could love me back. Is it my personality? My appearance? Do I act too formal with others and too informal with him? All these questions mull tiredly in my head serving only to make me miserable.

It was loveless sex. Nothing more.

For him anyway.

I look away from his sleeping face for a few moments. Outside, it is still dark and the moonlight dances off the rippling water silently. I'll miss this ship, the people, Ace. The friends I believe I have made: Thatch, Marco, Haruta, Jozu, Ox, Barker and, god forbid, Izo; they will be all but gone from my life soon. Ace, who is also my friend, will be gone too. I do wish to join Dragon, not only to make something of myself, but… I am what I am, and I know I don't deserve these people. I shouldn't love people. It only leads to pain and more heartbreak. And they don't deserve the hell that seems to follow me around.

Settling down onto the bed, I draw a little closer to Ace's sleeping figure. This might be the only time we can be like this. How I wish any of this could mean more than nothing to him. I'm stupid to hope that he came after me on the basis of love or at least something close to. The humourlessness of the situation catches in my throat and I laugh quietly to myself. Ace was right, I have changed. For the better or worse, as of yet I cannot say.

I press our chests together and intertwine our legs, careful not to wake him. My arm is thrown around his neck gently, pulling myself a little closer. As close as possible, I place my forehead to his, sharing a pillow. Ace does not stir, leaving me to stare at the face I have come to love with all my heart.

As wonderful as this is, it will be but only a one-sided moment. The manifestation of my quickly grown love. It's the heat in my chest and fluttering of my stomach. Something I hate and love at the same time.

Slowly, I close my eyes and join him.

* * *

I hold the den den mushi close to my chest, gently running my thumb pad against the small animal's shell. It seems content to be treated with such affection, and allows me to do so for a few minutes.

Not forty minutes ago, I contacted Dragon and now I'll be leaving. Whitebeard had been expecting this and allowed me time to so my goodbyes, gather my things and head off. He seems disappointed in my decision to leave him and his 'family' (as they call it) to join the Revolutionary Army. Whether out of affection or annoyance since I owe him a great deal, I'm not too sure. Unfortunately, I suspect the latter.

My room, the one I had spent a good deal of time in, seems more dead and lifeless than ever. It has hardly changed since I woke up two weeks ago after a further two weeks in a coma. Yet Ace left barely a few minutes after waking up. I haven't seen him since. It leaves a desolate feeling in my chest, but I ignore it. He'll visit later, right? Marco, Thatch and some of the others have yet to find out. Telling them will be difficult but everyone will manage. They have to, somehow.

Shoulders slumped and eyes downcast, I gather the few things I own, meaning two spare summer kimonos, an obi, some wrappings, Wano ornaments Marco, Thatch and Ace gave me, my katana and finally a photograph.

I remember the day we took this photo was when we made land at Funisha. As thanks, I had performed a traditional sake ceremony for those who were interested. As expected, the number totally only twenty-one, half of whom were women.

_Face painted like a porcelain doll and hair styled in the traditional geisha style, Siatsuke smiles pleasantly at the group, lips curling into a perfected shape. Her skin is snowy white with makeup, lips red like blood and eyes framed with yellow and red tendrils that resembled licks of fire. Her feet slide delicately along the ground, heavily constricted by the dangerously narrow kimono._

_In an elongated U-shape, the pirates sit, watching intently. Fluttering the fan gently in front of her face, Siatsuke approaches Whitebeard who is currently at the head of the sake ceremony. Though he is far larger, he fits in the traditional Japanese hall comfortably since the ceiling is so high. The sake in Siatsuke's hand is slightly warm in the customary fashion as she kneels beside him and pours it into his cup._

_She does so for the rest of the group, swiftly and silently. They watch in silent fascination. With movements as graceful and deliberately placed as a cat's, the princess seems almost ethereal to them, an entity far above anything else._

_"I am honoured to be of service to you all this evening." She snaps the fan shut and slides in into her ornate obi. "Restrain yourself not, should you have any requests, for I am more than willing to assist." There's a murmur of appreciation and confusion at the woman's sharp change in character, not that it's particularly unpleasant. While bowing, she says, "Please do enjoy your evening."_

_Siatsuke spends most of the time refilling sake, playing music and demonstrating the famed fan dance. She flips, catches and performs skillful tricks with them as if they are but an extension of her body. Finally, at last, the sake ceremony comes to an end. _

_"Wow! That's so much better than those girls at Fuiji Island Temple!" Exclaims one woman, laughing loudly and clapping Siatsuke upon the shoulder in a fairly masculine way. Holding her form, Siatsuke doesn't flinch, but instead leans away awkwardly._

_Bloody red eyes batter at the woman. "It honours me to hear such words, but perhaps should these _Fuiji Island girls_ need assistance, they call upon you first."_

_The woman grins, laughing with her friends. "Damn, Hime-sama! Yah flatter me too much!" Leaving soon after, Siatsuke turns to the few still remaining. One is a young teenager, perhaps only fifteen at most, the other a middle-aged woman and finally Marco, Thatch, Ace and Whitebeard. Whitebeard stands up, sighing heavily._

_"Gureheheh, if I had known you were even capable of being this agreeable and lady-like, I would've brought you aboard as a geisha!" The others, aside from the young teen, laugh along with him. She merely smiles good-naturedly at them bows, hands clasped at her thighs. "Ah, well you're not the same Siatsuke we brought aboard. See all of you back on the ship."_

_"Sayonara, Whitebeard-san." Siatsuke says._

_He cocks a white eyebrow before leaving. "Yeah, I don't like you." Grinning at the end, Whitebeard slips out, followed by the middle-aged woman. Presumably she is the Yonko's nurse._

_"A-A-Ah, Hime-sama!" Squeaks the boy, heavy blush set on his face. Siatsuke turns her head slightly, followed by her body and bows her head at him. "I-I… Will you please go out with me!" Rather than asking, the boy yells in an embarrassed tone before scrunching his eyes shut._

_Marco's sculptured eyebrows shoot up in surprise, while Thatch's jaw drops. Naturally, it is unexpected, blindsiding all but Ace who laughs to the point of near hysteria. The boy's shoulders are trembling, leaving Siatsuke to look over him. Nothing too impressive; floppy brown hair, tanned skin, average height and build. _

_"My na-name is Jesper Barker, we-we-we met just after you woke up from a c-coma. I just thought you were incredibly pretty and I-I-I've never really seen a gir-ir-irl l-l-like you before! Y-Y-You-You're really special, I think, and I re-really want to go out with you!" He yells after barely a few moments. Occasionally Barker's voice slips from yelling to squeaking or whispering, but even despite this it's difficult to watch._

_"Jesper-san," she begins. "I appreciate the compliments and, if you will let me be perfectly honest, I shouldn't think you know hardly enough about me to harbor any legitimate feelings. I apologise for my discourteous dismissal, but I could not possibly accept your offer. Forgive me."_

_"Oh…" His pale blue eyes drop to the floor. "Th-That's okay, I didn't honestly expect you say yes anyway, I mean you're so," Siatsuke resists the urge to scowl. "Pretty and all. Sorry."_

_"It is perfectly alright, Jesper-san."_

_"Ano, if it's alright with you… There's a photographer outside, and I was w-wondering, that maybe since you're all-all dressed u-up, I could get my picture taken with you?"_

_Before she can reply, Thatch swoops in, throwing his arm over the much younger boy's shoulder and shakes it playfully. Thatch drives his knuckles into Barker's cranium, causing him to yelp and push at Thatch's chest. Marco and Ace also approach, clearly amused by the entire situation. Giving them a displeased look, Siatsuke then looks back to Barker._

_"Geez, yah got some guts kid, I'll give you that much!" Stopping the grounding of his knuckles in the boy's skull he suddenly looks up. "Oi, that's not too bad of an idea. I wanna picture too! Then I can torture Izo over what a _real_ geisha looks like…"_

_The others look at him in mock horror. "Count us in." Marco answers for both himself and Ace. Ace shrugs and grins at Siatsuke._

_"As you wish."_

In spite of my ever constant attitude, it was a fun evening. It had been captured on camera. I am dead centre, flanked by Thatch, Marco and Ace who don't seem to be taking it all too serious. My smile is faint to the point of near non-existence, though my eyes speak a thousand words. Luckily I had a separate one with Barker, so I have one with only the three who were also with me in Wano.

I slip it also into the rucksack I had found under the bed and slide my katana into my obi. Perhaps now is the time to say goodbye. A ship tailing the Moby Dick for nearly a day will be close enough for me to board in little less than an hour or so, meaning I need to seize the day while it's still young.

Shouldering the rucksack, I leave the cramped but comfortable bedroom and step into the hall. It's musty, a little dusty and rather narrow. As tight a fit as it may be, this hall is quite memorable. I look to my left, staring at the wooden paneling of the dead-end. Something flutters in my stomach, causing the briefest of smiles to flicker against my lips. Ace had me corner their but a few hours ago; one thing led to another and next thing I know we were…

The halls are surprisingly empty as I make my way to the deck, hoping to catch some alone time on the open ocean before confronting anyone. Salty air helps to calm my mind and the cold wind should help in waking me up properly. Although I doubt it, maybe I'll be lucky enough to meet up with Ace privately before I leave. We are still friends after all.

Cool air hits my face gently, and I am greeted by a perfectly pleasant day. A few wispy clouds dot the sky like tendrils of swaying seaweed, though aside from that the great expanse is clear. Waves barely ripple and the Moby Dick floats along at a merry yet slow pace.

"Hime-san." The grave voice of Marco hits my ears. I turn slightly, away from the beautiful scene before me, and face the doorway panels. Barely looking at him, though noticing Thatch beside him, my mouth pulls into a tight, narrow line. My eyes fixate on a small dent in the wood. Marco and Thatch eye the rucksack on my shoulder and the katana at my hip.

"We er… We just heard about you leaving the crew." Thatch says awkwardly. In this now slightly crowded corridor, Marco is standing maybe two steps further from me than Thatch, whose chest is nearly touching my shoulder.

My concentration wavers and I glance at him briefly; a subtle and unnoticeable movement. "I don't ever recall joining." Licking my dry lips, I cross my arms over my chest.

Thatch frowns deeply. Had they thought all this time that I was a member of the crew? As flattering as that may be, not once had I acknowledge any idea of me joining. I had never intended to join, even if at times it crossed my mind. While I have been here, I've come to realize this crew truly is a family. But if it's a family, then I cannot accept it. In my experience, family only brings heartache and misery, and who's to say the same won't be felt here? Certainly, I'll feel it with my every waking moment near Ace. The rejection is painful, yet the constant reminder stings like aged vinegar.

"Well why not?" Mimicking me, Thatch also crosses his arms. He stares me down with irritated and frustrated eyes, blindsided by my departure. How had they found out anyway? Ace, most likely. Hopefully he left it at that. I couldn't bear the shame of such behaviour outside of marriage. I realize it's not quite the same outside of Wano, but a lifetime of proper etiquette can do that to a person.

"Surely you will not criticize me for such decisions…." I look to Marco, but he gives me a similar look as Thatch. "Very well. There is very little that I am capable of achieving with pirates, however in light of certain circumstances I have been offered the position of officer agent. Simply put, I will aid in a righteous revolution, though on a much grander scale."

Marco's eyebrows raise in surprise and he exchanges a confused look with Thatch, saying, "Are you trying to tell us you're joining the _Revolutionary Army_?"

"Very much so." I frown at them. "Did Ace not inform you of this?"

"Ace knew before?" Thatch asks lowly, clearly annoyed. I nod in reply, causing him to rub the back of his head anxiously. He sighs, though it is muffled by his attempts to hide it. "When did he find out?"

"I informed him last night." I reply, instantly wincing at my reply.

"Why was he with you last night?" Sounding suspicious, Marco leans in slightly. He places a fist on his hip and stares. I stare back with an equally level stare. Glaring would seem to conspicuous, rolling my eyes out of character and ignoring would simply be debatable.

"Must I provide you with a reason, _Mother_?" I ask, not letting any threat in my voice lest he suspect anything. For the time being, he accepts my sad sarcasm and dismissive response. This is not an uncharacteristic response, however unpleasant it may be. Most aboard this ship know what I am like already, so if they cannot stomach it, they would have moved on already. Marco and Thatch enjoy, what they call, my 'dry humour'. It doesn't bother me in the slightest, and only occasionally do I find my sarcasm funny myself.

"No, but you could've told us too." Thatch replies. My eyes soften and the tight grimace set on my face melts.

"Forgive me, it was careless of me to act so abruptly without a word of consideration with you first." I pause, mulling over what I'm going to say next. "However, this is goodbye. I would like to say I appreciate becoming fr… Fr… Fr-"

"Friends." Thatch laughs while sweat dropping.

I grumble, saying, "Yes, fr-friends." He laughs again, slapping my shoulder a few times. Marco smirks also, mainly at my seeming inability to say 'friends'. It's difficult to call somebody a friend when you've already lost all of yours. Ichibi, Date, Akemi, Toshi, none of them made it through the revolution. Over the three months I had with most of them (aside from Akemi who came with me from the palace), they had become quite reliable friends. Only Toshi was a samurai, the rest simple civilians who wished to do their parts for the sake of Wano.

"Come on, you can say it, Hime-san!"

Scowling at him, I jut my chin out.

"Just once!"

"…"

"It's really not that har-"

"I greatly appreciate your friendships and would be honoured to call you my friends." He grins cheekily and lets his hand rest on my shoulder. Thatch is such a jovial man, similar to Marco, though the latter is slightly more reserved. Both have their unique traits though. Marco is far wiser when it comes to serious matters than Thatch, though Thatch has his fair share of moments. He is more the uplifting man, whilst Marco is soothing.

"Likewise." Marco says, crossing his arms over his chest. A small, saddened smile is etched onto his face. Thatch simple grins widely. "Will you be saying goodbye to the captain?"

"That would be expected, yes." Nodding, Marco beckons me away from the door to the deck. Reluctantly I follow him as he walks in the direction of Whitebeard's private quarters. The door is naturally far larger than most on the ship and made of dark, glazed wood. I can smell rum and sake even through the barrier.

Marco knocks confidently on the door. "Pop?" I hide a small smile, though Thatch catches it. Although I had found it weird when I first woke up on the Moby Dick, the fact that his crew is so familiar with Whitebeard, as opposed to simply calling him 'Captain' to his face, is really quite nice. They live and work much like a family might. A very, very big family that is.

"Mmmm…? What?" Comes the rumbling reply.

"It's the princess." Replies Marco, face pressed a little bit closer to the door. For a moment there is silence, only for the sound of bottles and such clattering to the floor, to fill the hall. Thatch rolls his eyes.

"Oh, Siatsuke!" A small pause. "If it's about Dragon, send her in." He huffs from the other side of the door. "If not, leave me alone so I can sleep."

"It is about Dragon-sama, sir." I say, voice raised somewhat.

"Ahaha, well come on in, girl." The door is opened by Marco, swinging near silently on its hinges. It closes behind me with a small _click!_ and I am faced with the difficult, or depending his mood, not so difficult task of saying goodbye. Whitebeard, along with his crew is a good man and human being overall. Unlike the pirates that I have heard of from folklore and rumour, they are not blood-thirsting, vicious, cunning scum bags who would plunder any town or ship they could get their hands on.

No, rather they are quite the opposite. They have placed their marks on numerous islands throughout the New World, protecting them from far more dangerous pirates, left helpless people alone and gone about their own business for the most part. Sure they do their fare-share of fighting, but do not seek the blood.

"Whitebeard, a pleasure to see you." I greet gently. A tiny smile adorns my face as I approach to stand by his beside. His room isn't particularly lavish, filled only with a bed, medical equipment and an extensive array of rum bottles.

He looks at me from the corner of his eyes, head still trained forward. I wonder if Marco and Thatch are still just outside the door. Looking comfortable, Whitebeard sighs heavily, exerting what little youthfulness he has left. "Dragon, damn bastard." He chuckles, taking a swig of rum. "Would've liked you to stay on this crew, be a part of this family." I shift awkwardly at the mention of family. "I won't force you to stay, Siatsuke. You're old enough to make your own decisions now, even if you're still only sixteen. But this is your life, and you want to waste it with another army and even more wars, then that's your choice and I won't stop you."

"Live life without regrets…" I mutter under my breath. Whitebeard looks at me suddenly and strangely his eyes soften. I look up from the floor with tears tickling in the corners of my eyes. Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not cry.

"Ace-kun says that a lot, doesn't he?" Whitebeard smirks. "Young love is hard, eh?"

A hot blush crawls up my cheeks, dying my face and ears a bright shade of scarlet. I swipe my hands in front of my body. "N-No, please do not misunderstand, sir! I simply favour that saying-"

"Kah! I might be old, but I'm not blind yet, brat!" He laughs loudly and suddenly I'm praying that Marco and Thatch are not eavesdropping. He settles down finally, chest still rumbling in good-natured humour. "Well I'm glad it's you, Siatsuke. You're a good catch and I like you."

"Sir, please, it really is not like that." I say. My voice sounds weak and deflated.

"Such a nice couple."

"Sir!" I quip in a hard voice before lowering it at his surprised expression. "It is not like that." Drifting away to the corner of the room, suddenly interested in some obscure detail, my eyes refuse to go back to Whitebeard. Without looking, it is painfully obvious that he is both shocked and hurt.

He sighs deeply, a breathy and tired sound. "Alright then. If that's how _it_ is," explains Whitebeard as he rubs his large chin with his equally large hand. "I wish you all the best. Come by and visit any time, we'll be glad to have you." An awkward silence follows. I can feel the tension creep up on me, strangling my senses like a hand in the dark. It's uncomfortable and think. Finally, Whitebeard asks, "Do you love him?"

The question itself catches me by surprise, but I answer without a moment of hesitation. "Yes." Leaving the words to hang in the air, I stand to leave. The kimono swishes around me, giving me free room with which to move my stiff legs. Whitebeard's gold eyes watch me with silent sadness.

"Even though you won't be joining my crew, I still consider you one of my children." Comes the rumbling goodbye. I look at him sadly and nod, not specifying as to whether or not I agree or accept. My shoulders are taut with the idea of being considered a child again. I am sixteen, not a child in the least, but a familial child. In Whitebeard's eyes I mean the same to him as any other member of his crew, and for that I can't help but want to cry. Mother, Father, my brothers, they're all dead. My family is all dead. _This_ could be the new family I would wish for…

"Thank you, for everything… Pops." I catch the languid grin on the elderly Yonko's face in the brief moment before I leave the room. The fresh air of the hall contrasts with the rum and sake scent of Whitebeard's room. I notice Thatch and Marco have moved a little down the hall in order to give us privacy, and for that I am grateful. I could never face them should they find out about Ace and I.

* * *

At last, at the point when I can see the small ship bobbing on the water at the edge of the horizon, I find myself confronted by Ace. A small feeling of regret gnaws at my stomach like an incessant sickness, making me feel dizzy and light headed. Our eyes meet and the pirate approaches silently, smirking in the stagnant stiffness of the hall. My bloody eyes follow his every movement, watching carefully until he comes to a stop just before me.

"Guess you really are leaving, huh?" He chuckles, rubbing the back of his head.

I nod silently in reply, fingering the strap of the rucksack slung over my shoulder. "That is correct. The boat that will be taking me to Dragon-sama is nearly here, so I suppose… I suppose this is goodbye." Unable to help myself, I step forward, leaning up on my toes and steady myself with my hands on his chest. Tilting my head upwards, our eyes meet without similar feelings. I gently move up to kiss him, though he draws back subtly.

Balling my fists at his chest, I lean back down and drop my hands. It seems Ace cannot even manage I small sign of affection, though it's not his fault. In all honesty, it's mine. How could I do this? Mess around with him even though I might leave at any moment. I feel positively awful, no wonder he won't accept my farewell.

"Ace, I-"

Coal eyes snap back to me with wary recognition. "Whatever, it doesn't really matter anymore." He gives me a small grin, causing me to frown.

Why? Why is he doing this? I reach up and gently touch his cheek, my fingertips barely brushing against his flesh. Like before, though not quite so subtly, he leans away, avoiding my eyes. I press my palm to his cheek, not allowing him to move away, and lean up. In doing so, a small kiss is placed on his lips.

Ace remains unaffected. "Forgive me, Ace. It was never my intention to part like this."

"What do you think _this_ is anyway?" He asks in an off-handed manner. I blink in surprise though suppress a reply. Ace's eyes have narrowed into a cruel glare, eyebrows cocked downwards in annoyance and lips stretched into a tight grimace. There's an unpleasant fire in his eyes that warns me of the anger beneath.

"I know not what you mean-"

"I can't believe you would just take off!"

I take my hand back and hold it carefully. "I beg your pardon?"

A heavy hand rests on my shoulder with almost crushing force. I bite back a yelp and attempt to jerk my body from his grip. Endai Kitetsu, or simply Endai, slaps against my thigh in the process. Without my katana in hand, I must profess to be as weak as a child. Hand-to-hand was never my forte. "You can't just come into someone's life, make them care and… And just leave the next moment, Siatsuke!" Ace growls, bringing his face close to mine. I stare levelly at him, hating the words. "It's not fair to anyone, least of all me! _I'm the one that loses you!_"

My jaw drops and I gap at him for a brief moment before resuming my reserved countenance. "I do not understand." The muscles in my jaw tense uncontrollably. "I do believe _you_ to be the one who pursued me, took what it is that you wanted under the pretence that it was all 'a bit of fun'."

"That doesn't mean I don't care!" Ace shifts on his feet, attempting to intimidate me as he pulls our faces closer to the point where we are nearly nose to nose. My eyes settle in an irritated glare. After everything, including last night his obvious rejection of my affection, he dares to play the 'I care' card? I snarl back at him, lips curling slightly.

"Please do not belittle me with that _bullshit_, Ace." I say through clenched teeth. "Your feelings are overshadowed by my own suffocating ones, and it is quite simply _insulting_ that you think me so _stupid_ as to believe you!"

He remains quiet for a moment, unsure of how to continue. "I don't think you're stupid, Siatsuke." Ace replies, taking a small step backwards. I wince at the utter confusion and exhaustion on his face. He seems so weary of everything.

"Ace, last night, before we…" Looking up, Ace's eyes meet mine. "I said to you that nothing was forced. I am begging, _begging_ you to take those words to heart, even if you may find it difficult to believe. It was not your pretences or flirting that caused a lack in restraint." I cease my ranting. "Simply put, it was you, Ace."

In my mind, the world seems to stop. The crashing waves, groaning wood and faint sound of the crew fades to a dull whisper in the back of my mind, belittled by the sound of my heartbeat in my eyes. I am so trained on his response that I am unaware of anything around me. Air leaving my lungs sounds unbearably loud and my vision blurs around Ace, watching his shocked and nervous face. I cannot express, no matter the words or metaphors I could imagine, the pinnacle of love, fear and heartache facing me. It chokes me, making me hold my shallow breaths.

"Ace…" My tongue feels swollen in my mouth. "I truly l-… Care for you above anything else, yet my… Care for you will not be allowed to disparage the duty of my existence. Please, I beg that you forgive me for my impertinence and brash departure, but I must ask that you do not hate me."

"Hime-san! Your ride… Gonzo is here!" Comes the echoing voice that chills my blood.

In a flurry of love, I give him a brief kiss, whisper three words and leave.


	7. Chapter 7

I rub the harsh gash stretching from the side of my wrist up to the second joint of my thumb. At my wrist, it appears to be but a mere scratch, though when it reaches the muscles it sinks into the muscle of my thumb and cuts at the sinewy tendons and bone. My right hand quivers slightly in my attempt to suppress the pain, ignoring the fresh tendrils of blood appearing as I squeeze it.

The man, as skilled as he had been, now lays dead and brutally cut at my feet. Though unlike him, I had not used dirty tactics before initiating the fight. He was plain foolish and I do not regret never catching his name. Ashy blonde hair covers his bloodied face which is pressed into the hardwood floor, forever frozen in an expression of agony and horror.

Single-handedly, I slide Endai back into her sheath and resume my seat at the bar. For a few moments the thick heavy silence continues before some drunkard yells 'kanpai' and the stupor starts once more. Pretty soon the man's corpse is taken away by who I assume to be his friends, earning myself quite a few vicious glares and curses, though none dare threaten me. They are like small pups, all puffed up in the chest but still cowards nonetheless.

I do suppose I have changed in three years, and not simply in a physical way. My hair is shorter now: a few inches below my collarbone; I'm a little taller and chest is heavier. Naturally my skills have increased and I've become more knowledgeable about the wider world. It's a harsh and unforgiving place, though that makes it quite similar to Wano. And, to my benefit in most situations, my personality as been tweeked: I can control my temper and no longer have outbursts of emotion. My constant and steady calm is always present.

Back to my badly injured hand, it has not stopped bleeding and continues to sully my purple kimono. The small rivers of blood trickle down my hand towards my wrist and drip onto the fabric, staining it in blotches of darkening scarlet.

This close to the beginning of the Grand Line, I had expected a few rookie swordsmen to make the foolish decision to take pick a fight, though not one that had some level of skill. Or trickery. The man, now deceased and finally gone, had approached under the pretence of a friendly chat (one I had attempted to wave off) before forcefully grabbing my hand and slicing through it with a hidden blade. Unfortunately that was the last stupid decision he made. The black blade has sliced clean through his side, up through his chest and out through the front of his shoulder.

Yet now the damage is done and, with such a cruelly wounded thumb, I cannot hold my sword properly. Downing nearly half a glass of sake, I lean forward on the bar table, propping my elbows upon it and look around.

Tangy sake and day-old rum fills my senses and burns at my eyes, making the bar seem humid and sticky. For the majority of those here, being drunk (maybe or maybe not at this particular bar) becoming intoxicated is quite a common thing, and it seems they still haven't learnt how to go about it, considering their raucous behaviour. A few I spot look far more weary and downtrodden, as if this is the only place to seek refuge. I spot a few that fit the 'thug' type, most of which who are barely older than myself, and the occasional lone pirate. You can tell they are pirates from their grizzly, wiry hair, tanned skin, narrow eyes and the constant weapons attached to them.

There's a small crew of about seven, possibly still a crew in its infancy, for now just hoping to acquire the minimum number of men needed to sail a ship. However, in the corner, occupying maybe three large tables is full-fledged crew, uniform and all. This, being my first time seeing a crew with a legitimate uniform, though I have to admit it isn't all that impressive. Such uniforms I expect to be intimidating, much like a suit of armor, not to have everyone appear the same. And in boiler suits no less.

All of whom look like regular crew members sport the regular white boiler suit with a yellow smiling insignia over the heart. However, two stand out from their nakama. The first, one I must admit I ogled for a few minutes, is one I hadn't seen before and amazing all the same. A polar bear, curious and innocent-looking, sits bolt upright in a chair wearing a similar boiler suit to the rest, though an orange variation. He seems to be talking with those also at the table. Though I have seen weirder in my years of traveling the Grand Line, this I admit is certainly a first.

The second one to stand out from the group is, or at least who I assume to be, the captain. Rather than his clothes or species taking my attention, it is the man's eyes that catch my own; slim and grey, but full of calculating viciousness and cruelty. They stare back at me, unwavering even as a crew member begins to speak with him. His mouth moves almost mechanically, though I'm too far to hear his words. Eyes assessing one another, mainly our odds in a fight, we take the time to get to know each other from afar. He's quite tall, lean and handsome, possibly a little under a foot taller than I. Deep bags frame his eyes, similarly coloured to his hair, sideburns and goatee. A nodachi sits propped up against his chair. I have no doubt that the captain knows how to use it, though in a sword fight he still as little chance, despite his weapon of choice's length.

Suddenly, and without a word or visible signal, the man rises from his seat and approaches. I watch him warily before looking away, specifically to the other corner of the room. I would rather avoid another fight so soon, especially with an injured hand such as mine. Staring into my sake, I quickly take another sip and attempt to blatantly ignore the captain as he approaches.

"You are 'Princess' Siatsuke, correct?" He asks whilst taking the seat in front of my view, directly to my left. Pursing my lips gently, I take another sip and nod carefully. A small smirk tugs on his lips, though it doesn't reach his eyes. Those remain cunning like before. "You are just as beautiful as they say, Miss Princess." He states politely. "Are you just as deadly?"

I narrow my bloody eyes at him. Obviously after my little show of slaughtering that swordsman, it should be clear that I am not a person you can simply mess with. I would be more inclined to 'dispose' of this annoying pest, rather than put up with his ramblings. From the look in his eye, I can guess he is trying to goad me into doing so, thus starting a fight.

"Why is it that you ask, sir?" I keep my words short and clipped, hoping this man will understand that I would like to be left alone. Feeling many pairs of eyes on my side, most likely from the rest of the crew, I shift my gaze to them, shooting them a harsh glare. All either recoil or quickly look away, much to my satisfaction. Immediately, I return my attention back to the space in front of me.

"I wish to make an alliance." I cock an eyebrow and twist my body slightly, unimpressed by his brashness. "I am well-aware of your abilities as a swordsman, and that in a fight I may possibly lose."

I stop him midsentence and say, "Forgive me, but please move to the point."

"Very well," he mumbles while smirking again. "I believe it would be mutually beneficial to both of us to form an alliance." For a few moments, I am unsure if this man is being serious, or this is simply a ploy in order to have me drop my guard. I glare at him. "Your thumb needs immediate medical attention and, as a doctor, I will happily volunteer myself… For a favour, of course."

I resist the urge to glance down at my smarting thumb, knowing it most likely is not a pretty sight. "And, should I accept your offer, what is it that you would have me do for you, sir?"

Silently, the man removes his fluffy spotted hat and offers a tanned hand. I eye it suspiciously before slipping my small, porcelain one into it. His grip and frighteningly painful on my uninjured hand, causing me to pull away, though he refuses to let go. I glare up at his devious eyes.

"Trafalgar Law, at your service."

I scoff. "I hardly think so, Trafalgar-san. Now if you would, let. Go." Law refuses, instead tightening the hold. I reach for my sword, only to have pain lance throughout my hand and shuttering up my arm in agonising waves. The number of nerves in a person's hand is unlike any other part of the body, so naturally this is quite painfully.

However, what strikes me is the fact that I cannot draw my sword. What a sneaky bastard. Such a man is like a viper that slithers between your bed sheets before striking you with cleverly poisoned fangs. My I cannot physically hold the handle of my sword, wishing that I could sever the head of that viper.

"It's quite painful, isn't it, Hime-san?" Says Law in a light tone, pulling my hand across and beside his waist. Such a physically awkward position where I am leaning out of my stool and towards him makes my muscles tense and begs me to recoil. I hold my steady glare. "And you're quite weak without your sword, hmm?"

"…" I have no words to say. Nothing that will stop him anyway.

Unbelievably, Law tightens his hold on my hand. It's painful now, crushing the bone, ligament and muscle together much like a trash compactor, and I can barely believe he is producing such pressure with one hand. "Not going to say anything? What a shame, I happen to like your voice."

I attempt to tug my hand back, only for it to be a futile effort. Barely shifting, Law smirks down again, obviously amused at my helplessness. Such a position is incredibly precarious for me in particular. Should anyone decide to, it would be all too easy to attack from behind, thus going for my unguarded back or neck.

"Trafalgar-san, I ask that you release me immediately." I say tersely, our eyes testing each other's boundaries. Law obviously has no issue pushing mine, though considering the situation _I_ am the one who must tread carefully. "Perhaps then we may talk of alliances."

"Don't misunderstand when I say I don't trust you, Hime-san, because frankly I don't." He replies, quite serious. "Maybe we can talk like this?" I do not reply. "Alright then. I'll skip right to my point: I will fix your injured hand, making it good as new, and you will do something for me."

"And I must ask again, what is it that you would have me do? I can hardly agree to such terms if I haven't the faintest idea it is that you want from me."

Much to my caution, Law's eyes suddenly light up. A hand, long and slender, twitches at his side before coming to rest on my knee. I flinch, which only seems to excite him. Grey eyes watch me in amusement, far more interested in my reactions. I can feel the calm slipping. It slides up from my leg, coming unnervingly close. I pull away, only to be held in place by my trapped hand. I suppress a shudder until-

_Wham!_

My foot connects with the side of his face, catching Law by surprising and causing him to gasp as blood fills his mouth and drips from his nose. Not to my credit, Law reacts quickly, an enraged glint in his eyes. I lower my leg from the kick and place in on the ground, attempting to jerk away from him. With his free hand, he goes for a vicious blow to my face, though I manage to dodge him. Just barely, however. This captain, he is fast, and by fast I mean frighteningly quick. I stomp on his foot and kick his ankle and, even though it's unlikely that it hurt in the slightest, his surprise causes the grip on my hand to weaker. I draw my newly liberated limb from Law and step backwards, careful of my surroundings.

I notice the bare become quiet once more.

Shifting to draw my sword with my uninjured hand, I slide my left foot backwards to open up the space between Law and I. In a mere second, through the blood in his mouth and dripping down from his nose, the man raises his hand to waist-height and stretches his palm out. A blue sphere, spinning hazily in a clockwise motion, appears neatly in his hand.

"Room."

The blue sphere expands in the blink of an eye, encompassing both of us. My free hand grips the handle of Endai tightly, only for that comforting presence to disappear. I look down in shock, seeing a void of space at my hip and glare up at Law. Endai sits snuggly in his hand. He casts it to the side and out of the sphere. My eyes follow it, ready to move at any second.

"Don't even think about it, Hime-san." He growls. "This should be a fair fight. A good old bar fight between friends."

"We are not friends, Trafalgar-san." I snap back, pulling my lip back in disgust. Chuckling lazily, Law lowers his hand, considering the sphere in it has disappeared and allows the large one surrounding us to vanish also. I think it's safe to assume he is a devil fruit user, though the specifics of his powers aren't clear. Teleporting, perhaps? Whatever it is, I'm guessing his power is limited to the sphere.

Law goes for the first blow and, as I see it, it's obvious that neither of us have had a hand-to-hand fight in quite some time. Or rather this being my first real engagement of fist-fighting. His knee clips my ribs, though I avoid any serious damage by sliding backwards like I would in a sword fight. The raised knee snaps out as a kick, landing a cruel blow to my stomach. I gasp a keel, struggling for breath. Law moves to strike my back. I expect this nevertheless. Despite claiming this to be a fair fight, it's unlikely he'll fight fair at all.

Eyeing the intimidating heel of his boots, I slip away from his descending hand, saving my back from a multitude of bruises and hook my leg around his, pulling it towards, effectively tripping him. I dash away, headed for Endai. The kimono barely restricts my movement, luckily, and I hear Law coughing. Most likely winded, he might struggle for a little while.

Unfortunately, he does not go down quite as easily as I had expected. His shoes clink along the hard wooden floor. Sensing an incoming blow, I drop backwards, flat on my back, narrowly avoiding a devastating kick to the back of my head. The air leaves me when I realize how easily he could have completely crushed my skull with a simple snapping kick.

I kick up, slamming the ball of foot into his chest, though it barely does anything. Law's breath hitches however, giving me the opportunity to pull my foot back down and sweep it under his. With a resounding crack he makes contact with the floor, wheezing a breath as he does.

A smarting stomach restricts my movement, leaving me to reach out for Endai, my fingers brush the scabbard, running over its smooth, snake-skin patterned edge. Finally I manage to curl my fingers around it, breathing heavily through a shocked ribcage. I slide onto my back, drawing Endai in the process. Injured and limp, my right hand stays still, forcing me to use my left. It feels awkward and heavy.

As the point leaves its cover, a heavy foot presses sharply on my throat.

Strange stillness follows and I can barely breathe, whether from the boot at my windpipe or the intensity of the atmosphere, I cannot tell. I glare up into amused eyes, watching Law's every move. Endai is pointed straight at his chest. With a small jab, it would be unlikely for him to survive.

"I'll crush your windpipe." He mutters.

"Perhaps I will impale _you_." I hiss back. A smirk fights its way onto his face, and I can hear the slight whistling of air sliding between his lips. Between both of us, we're bruised, out of breath and overly alert from adrenaline. The fight, though only lasting a bare thirty seconds, was intense for a mere bar fight. In a sense, that fight was more of a dominance spat between two equally dominant personalities.

"I'm on top, Hime-san." Law states cockily, seemingly pleased with himself. My glare hardens. "I do believe that means I've won. Or maybe you do things different where you come from, but here, being on top means I win."

My mouth feels dry and I barely manage to choke out an answer. "Modesty is a virtue." I spit. "Though if you allowed any, perchance you would understand your position, Trafalgar-san. I will not hesitate in the taking of your life."

Releasing the tension in my coiled muscles, I lower the katana from his heart, letting it rest a little lower barely a few centimeters from his ribcage. Law reacts similarly, sliding his foot off my neck, eyes never leaving mine. We test the water for several moments, Law a little less hesitant to back down, though doing so nonetheless. His boot rests beside my neck, the narrow point tickling my neck ever so slightly. I twist my wrist and, surprisingly, the captain does not flinch as Endai's point only just skims past his hoodie and rests low beside his calf. Protectively, my weapon is pointed diagonally across my body.

Much to my dismay, my breathing sounds wheezy and forced, as if a blockage in my throat is slowly asphyxiating me. Law reaches down, curling a tanned hand around my upper arm and carefully pulls me to my fight. I accept the help silently, offering only the briefest of nods. Endai is quickly sheathed.

"Quite an interesting fight, no?" Flashing me a none too pleasant smirk, Law offers his left hand once more. Ignoring the hand I settle my raven hair and kimono, annoyance bubbling in me at the large rip that had formed in the side.

Eyeing him, I agree. "That it was, Trafalgar-san." The crew sweat-drops, exasperated by either their captain's frivolous behaviour or my own aloof dismissal. I place my uninjured hand on Endai, coddling the handle affectionately to my hip and restrain a hiss of pain. Blood courses in violent torrents through my system causing my thoughts to no longer remain coherent. The wound, a deep slash on one of my most important fingers, spurts velvety blood. It slips down my thin fingers gracefully, forming tiny puddles at my feet.

"I hope that sorted things out between us." He replies, voice smooth and calm, showing very little evidence of our recent scuffle. "Now if I may ask again, how about an alliance? As a surgeon, I am _more_ than qualified to handle that wound of yours, and I doubt there are many doctors on this island willing to serve a criminal such as yourself."

Criminal? My mind mulls over the word. Surely the World Government is yet not aware of my involvement in a string of revolutions along the Grand Line? No, that is unlikely. I have covered my tracks well these past three years, though it's hardly improbable that my other involvements won't go unnoticed. Marines, for example, are barely my favourite people in the very least and I might go as far as to say I despise them. So it's understandable that their corrupted _justice_, which serves none but their own benefit, irks me to no end. This is one of the main reasons where I have nary an issue with destroying their pathetic fleets when the whim passes me.

"I suppose you may be correct in assuming that. I don't believe I could be consider hospitable in the best of moods." I glance down briefly, my eyes flicking to his outstretched hand. There seems to be no ill-intent, and for my hand to be mended a mere favour is not much. Aside from that, I don't believe this _pirate_ and his crew would pose much of a threat. "I shan't expect any welcome surprises should I agree to this alliance?"

"No, Hime-ya."

Sighing deeply, I glide my left hand from Endai's handle, bridging the distance between our hands and gently clasp his. It's welcomingly warm, hardly as threatening as before. "Very well, I suppose there's no harm. Although I must ask that my unflattering wound be treated to in the greatest of swiftness, if I may."

Law holds my hand, and I feel two long fingers slide up my wrist, coming to rest at the main artery at the joint. I quirk an eyebrow at him, watching that incessant smirk dance on his lips. Having checked my pulse, Law slowly releases my hand, perhaps pleased with the results of testing my heart beat.

"Not at all, in fact I would like to begin immediately." Law says swiftly, gesturing to the door. Behind him, the majority of his crew rises in near perfect sync. "Now, if would be so kind as to accompany me to the Heart Pirate's ship?" This strange, over-politeness seems fake and obviously plastic, though I cannot complain. Despite the façade of character, I much prefer it to a rude, belligerent attitude.

"Of course, Trafalgar-san."

A pair of eyes, framed in exhausted dark circles glint in satisfaction and what I can only describe as dull excitement. He doesn't seem to have particularly strong emotions, or perhaps he simply does not show them. Either way it doesn't quite bother me.

From the side, a crewmember dressed in the customary boiler suit and hat, distinctive by the word 'PENGUIN' written across the front, approaches nervously, saying, "A-Ah Law-sanchou, do you really think we should let a stranger on-"

Law looks at him from the corner of his, waving him off nonchalantly. "Don't question my decisions, Penguin." The man, Penguin, looks towards me with wary brown eyes, a splash of pink adorning his otherwise pale face. He looks as if he is going to stammer a reply, eyes trained on me, but instead clamps his mouth shut and shuffles back to the rest of the crew. "No need to worry about him, Hime-ya. Penguin can be odd at times."

"I see…" I drawl slowly, looking away from the slightly older man's figure and back to Law. My bloody eyes are wide an expectant while the agonising throb in my hand refuses to lessen its grip. "Sir, I would prefer that my hand be repaired sooner rather than later. If that is not too much, of course."

Nodding agreeably, the pirate ushers me to the door of the bar, revealing the annoyingly busy town of Port Carnavy. "Right this way." I feel a hand, wider than an average one, press itself flat against the portion of my back between my spine and hips. Resisting the urge to shake him off, I obediently follow Law's insistence.


	8. Chapter 8

Having a small, thin metal rod pierce your flesh multiple times, only to have a long cord strewn through it, is hardly a comfortable ordeal. It's painful in the sense that the punctures aggravate my already bare wound, the stinging sensation sharper than a razor. I grit my teeth, occasionally grinding them, and press my lips tightly together.

Law stares intently, an unidentifiable expression on his face as he continues to stitch my hand. The groaning of the sub supporting millions of gallons of seawater with its precarious metal frame, reminds me of a lonesome whale: loud and high-pitched. Though unmistakably cool beneath the restless waves, I cannot help but feel claustrophobic on this hulking, yellow contraption. A porthole to my left reveals and empty field of darkness, as featureless and dull as I had imagined, save for the occasional silver fish dashing past.

I feel a sharp prick and sharply switch my attention back to Law. "Oops," is all he says, sounding insincere and slightly disappointed. I furrow my brows at him. Looking at the angle of the needle, I notice it protrude from the sinewy section of my thumb at an abnormal angle, unlike before when it had glided in smoothly. Swiftly, he removes the needle and pushes it through at a flatter angle.

Narrowing my eyes, I ignore the doctor's 'mishap' and busy my mind with anything other than the steady pain. Smelling of disinfectant and medical alcohol, both from my hand having been cleansed of any lingering bacteria and most likely its constant use, the infirmary seems pristine in condition. I presume from Law's level of skill in treating me, this is hardly even his hundredth time doing this. Many of the glass shelves are lined with unnamable substances, most of which I can assume are medicinal, as well as a few oddities. For example, I doubt many doctors, or surgeons for that matter, have a human brain and heart sitting quietly in jaws on their desk. Neither is particularly pretty: the brain a lifeless grey and heart slightly saggy. I will not judge however; each to their own, as they say.

Law himself does not quite fit my assumption of a doctor, what with his casual hoodie and jeans, though as a pirate I can hardly call him conventional. He had removed his fluffy white hat upon entering the infirmary with me in tow, setting it gently on the bench housing numerous testing kits and medical supplies. Admittedly, I must say Law is what you may consider handsome, if only he would remove that unnerving smirk of his. Ace, on the other hand, has little I can fault. I resist the urge to sigh, knowing that many of my thoughts often lead back to him. I suppose it has been nearly six months since our last encounter, and it was scarcely the romantic reunion I had imagined. Rather it involved speaking briefly, sleeping together and Ace being gone in the morning.

The needle jabs again, this time a little deeper and the briefest of whimpers slips past my lips. I glare down at the man sitting with his head beside my hand. "I hardly believe _that_ was a simple accident, Trafalgar-san." I spit, wrenching my hand from his grip.

Raising his hands in mock defense, Law smirks once more. "You're quite sharp, aren't you?" He says patronisingly while taking my hand again and reaching for some pills on the bench behind him. "Pain-killers, miss?"

"You thought not to administer them before?" I ask levelly, annoyed at Law. He twists the container cap open and tips two small pills into his hand. They drop into my uninjured hand, a little warm from his skin.

Law places the medication back on the bench, saying, "Ah, but then I wouldn't get to hear you yelp!" I swallow the pills, confused at the man's sadistic behaviour. Having not expected him to admit straight up he intended to hurt me, I stare at him in wary shock. "Also I needed you to be able to feel your hand to check if the nerves reconnected properly."

I nod in reply. He takes my newly stitched hand gently, examining it carefully. Playing with my fingers a few moments, I assume he is testing their flexibility and strength. Law then turns it over so the palm is facing upwards. Prodding gently, he warrants a snarl of annoyance from me.

"Well the nerves are connected." He notes, sounding midway between pleased and bored. "Wiggle your thumb." I do so, chewing silently on my lip as the searing pain lances through the muscle and nerves. Law mutters a small 'stop' and pulls the stitch line closer to his eyes, examining it with careful deliberation.

His fingers are slightly calloused, I can only guess from that great nodachi of his, though he uses little to no pressure when examining my hand. Staring at the crown of Law's head, I silently wait until he has examined me to his heart's content.

"It looks to be fine, so long as you refrain from strenuous use." Law says in a monotone voice, pushing back on his wheelie chair. The plastic wheels squeak and slide over the linoleum floor until he comes to a stop barely a meter from me. I slide off the edge of the examining bench, landing silently on my feet.

"Your assistance is greatly appreciated, Trafalgar-san." I state, bowing from the hips. As I straighten, I catch Law nod vaguely, if not dismissively. He stands, pushing the wheelie chair away from himself and stretches his arms over his head. "Now please, as I have previously asked of you, what is it that you would have me do?"

"Do you know of Fort Inazuma?" He asks. I nod I reply. It's a large Marine base situated on the next island from here and, currently as we stand, unavoidable for the most part. "Well we will be docking there in the next four days and I doubt it's going to be a walk in the park. However, _you_ will be fighting with us."

"Is that all?"

He cocks an eyebrow but refrains from commenting. "Yes." Law reaches for his fluffy hat, which had been sitting on the bench behind him for the entirety of the stitching, and brings it front of his body before curling his hand to place it on his head. He smirks, teeth strangely white in the starkness of the infirmary. "Will you accompany me to dinner?"

Dinner sounds relatively appealing at the moment, although my hand is still bitterly painful and I'm not sure how long it may be until the pain-killers begin to take effect. Nonetheless, I sigh silently and shrug. "I can't imagine why not. May I be frank with you, Trafalgar-san?" He nods, heading for the metal door. It has a tall, arch-like frame that clears my head by a good half meter, though less for Law. Aside from the infirmary, as I had noticed when boarding this submarine, the majority of the walls consist of pipes, valves and strange contraptions I have never seen before. The floor, though we are supported by a gangplank of metal, is similar. "I have yet to eat a proper meal for three days, so I apologise if I may appear… Vivacious, if you will."

"I would be more worried if you still did not have an appetite." Law explains, walking a few steps ahead of me. "You have not had any dizzy spells or cramps?"

"Forgive me if I did not explain myself appropriately, but I merely have not had any meals, simply mere snacks when the fancy passed me."

"Nonetheless snacking can't be considered healthy or a sustainable meal." Replies the man, turning sharply to the left. The sound of raucous laughter and talking echoes thinly against the metal walls and a dim glow appears around the next corner. I assume this will be the mess hall and much of the crew might already have begun. "Tell me why you weren't eating."

"Many restaurants will refuse certain individuals or groups on the basis of their criminal activity, though I do believe that is understandable. Port Carnavy is not dissimilar in that respect." As the echoes become louder, the scent of meat, alcohol and something else unfamiliar but alluring nonetheless, fills my senses. A warm meal is certainly welcome in my opinion, and Law seems harmless enough at the moment so it's unlikely he'll attempt anything.

"Why not demand service?" Law asks as if it is the most obvious choice. I'm sure he would do it, while other pirates might simply reek havoc at being refused service. And by 'demand service', he clearly means threaten the owners.

I click my tongue. "However others may or may not view me, I wish to not consider myself a criminal to be feared." I say to him as we stop outside the mess hall. The door, far large than any we had passed, stands at nearly two and a half meters tall and maybe two meters wide, meaning many people passed through it any one time. I cross my arms over my chest. "My work does not involve the belligerent disregard of civilians, so I try to keep their slaughter to a minimum."

"You are surprisingly noble, Hime-ya." Sounding smug, Law smirks once more. He reminds me of an annoying cat that seems to only wear one facial expression, and this is it.

"You need not call me princess, Trafalgar-san. I am no longer one so it's no longer a fitting title."

"What may I call you then?"

"Siatsuke-dono is fine." I joke, smirking in a way similar to Law. The man, however, rolls his eyes, the faintest of smiles pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Siatsuke-san."

"Of course, Siatsuke-san." Placing a flat palm against the ajar door, it pushes against it with what seems like very little power. I imagine that in reality, any normal person might struggle with such a weight. Then it occurs to me: during our scuffle when Law's boot was pressed to my throat, there is no doubt he could've crushed both my windpipe and spine before I could push Endai far enough into his body to kill him. Keeping the thought to myself, I watch him from the corner of my bloody eyes as I pass him and into the hall.

Quite noticeably, there are only males. Of course I don't particularly mind, though female companionship is always welcome. The tables are joined to create two lines of about three tables, while up the back is the entrance to what I assume to be the kitchen.

Not a single pirate seems to notice our arrival. "This way." Law says, walking towards the kitchen. We attract a little more attention as we make our way to the kitchen, but not enough to stop the raucous commotion of lunch. Much like the ravenous, ruthless pirates they are, the Heart crew eats without fault, gorging themselves on the mountainous hills of food stacked on their plates. The Whitebeard crew was similar in that respect, though slightly more civil about it.

Soon I realise the source of the food is nearly as terrifying. The chef, looking exhausted and lost for breath, slumps heavily against the wall at the other end of the kitchen, unable to stand any longer. Trays, saucers, pots and pans lay strewn across the main table in the centre of the kitchen, though most are nearly completely depleted of food.

Handing me a plate, the captain gestures to the food. "May I ask if, perchance, you own any chopsticks?" I ask, looking over the food. There is an interesting cuisine choice, most of which are meat-based, although there are a number of seafood dishes and soups.

"Third cupboard, first drawer. There should be some in there." Law mutters back, picking through what is left of what would have been a spectacular feast. I wonder briefly if all their meals would have resembled this one, even if it would a diet someone couldn't possible keep up. The cost of supplies and risk of starvation underwater should overrule the insatiable appetite of the crew.

I rummage through the drawer, finally acquiring a matching pair of chopsticks. However Law has already taken his leave. I quickly pick at the food, gently placing it on the ceramic plate and leave for the mess hall. I take the spare seat by Law, earning the attention of most at the head of the first table.

The first I notice is the polar bear. A bipedal bear seated directly opposite me, watching with curious black eyes. His mouth is slightly ajar, giving him the appearance of confusion. Beside him is the one named Penguin, who Law had reprimanded in the bar. He however looks more nervous than anything, though from the faint pink on his cheeks, it's difficult tell what he is really thinking.

I look to my right, immediately faced with another man. Ginger hair sticks out from beneath his bulky cap, face alight with embarrassment at having been caught staring and eyes bulging. "Hime-sama!" He squeaks. Quirking and eyebrow, I nod at him. The man visibly relaxes, slumping weakly in his chair. "I-I'm Shachi."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Shachi-san." I reply politely. I do believe this feels unnaturally familiar, similar to when I had first awoken on Whitebeard's ship. Although it feels like a lifetime ago, merely three years have passed. In that time, I had visited only four times, two of which were complete accidents, mind you.

"You too." Shachi mumbles, ducking his head as another hot flush engulfs his face.

"Penguin." He introduces himself, managing a smile. "And this is Bepo. He's also the first mate." Said bear mutters a small 'hello' before focusing his attention on the sleek fish in his paws. It is still wet and raw, as if it had been caught only recently.

I nod at them both, taking the chopsticks in my hand. Law watches with bored disinterest, staring down the middle of the table. "Ittadikimasu." I whisper, pressing my finger tips together with as the chopsticks are balanced between my thumbs. Bowing my head ever so slightly, I then place one hand in my lap, using my left and uninjured hand to eat. Though it feels awkward and sluggish, it pick at the noodles and vegetables slowly.

"Are you a real princess?" Penguin asks, sculling a glass of rum, not bothering to wipe the trails of liquid left on his upper lip. "Or is that just the name the Navy gave you?"

"I can assure you I am of royal birth." I reply curtly as I keep my eyes on my plate.

"Really? Where you from?"

"Wano Country."

"Wha-? That's a real place?" Shachi asks curiously. I nod in reply, biting back a snarky reply. I doubt it would be appreciated if I commented on their idiocy, even if it is plainly obvious. Looking up, I purse my lips lightly at their oddly inquisitive expressions. How long has it been since anyone has paid any particularly attention to me? A while, from what I can remember. The last being Ace. A bitter frown pulls at the corner of my mouth at the memories. The others, mistaking the frown for annoyance, quickly silence themselves.

I smother the frown. "That is correct. It's a little way into the New World." Shachi nods a few times, holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger. Similarly, Penguin closes his eyes and strokes what I imagine to be an implied beard. I smile softly at them. "Perhaps, to describe it, Wano may be considered much like a traditional shrine that one sees occasionally, though on a far larger scale."

"Naturally." Law mutters as he pushes the food around his plate. I glance to him and pick up a few noodles with the chopsticks. "Describe the samurai." I click my tongue at his demanding attitude, answering nonetheless.

"Many are quite similar to myself, Trafalgar-san. Of course none are men you would wish to trifle with, let me warn you."

With a vaguely smug expression, Law lifts his eyes from the plate to stare at me levelly. We hold one another's gazes without fault. He arches an eyebrow, looking at me from underneath his slightly hooding hat. "I'm not sure if I should take that as a _warning_, Hime-ya. It sounded quite threatening, ne?"

"Forgive me, as that was not my intention, Trafalgar-san." I reply and bow my head slightly. My fingers gently trail the knee-high rip of my kimono, fingering the fraying threads of fabric. That even stare can be quite intimidating at times. "However, I do suggest that you heed my warning, sir."

"I don't really care if you have my best interests at heart or not," he replies in a flat, bored tone. "Just be careful what you say while you're on my ship."

I grit my teeth, feeling the flat edges grind against one another garishly. "I respect your authority whilst accompanying you."

"I don't understand." Comes Bepo's surprisingly level voice. All eyes turn to him, and the creature blushes through his snowy fur, seemingly embarrassed by the sudden attention. "Why does Captain think Hime-sama is threatening him?" Mouth hanging open slightly afterwards in silent question, the polar bear tilts his head a small fraction to the right.

"Gah, don't worry about it, Bepo. You wouldn't get it." Mumbles Shachi to my right as he jabs his food with passive-aggressive strikes. It seems they humans of this crew are accustomed to such behaviour from their captain, though I certainly do not mind if they have come to accept it, I relish the idea of someone belittling me as he already has.

We slowly settle, begin to eat and finally the gnarling silence disappears. "How old are ya anyway?" Penguin asks. His dark eyes blink at me from beneath his large hat.

"Nineteen." His eyebrows suddenly shoot up, along with Shachi's head.

"What? Really?"

"Yes, that is correct." I reply, placing the chopsticks to the side of the plate, neatly and parallel to one another. I notice the stifling humidity has begun to make hair cling to the back of my neck like a second skin. It is uncomfortable, though not unbearable. Subtly, I ruffle some of it, letting the silky stands fall over my shoulder before returning my hand to my lap.

"You look older though." He mumbles, the blush not vanishing.

The tiniest of smiles pulls at the corner of my mouth. "I suppose that may be misleading, do forgive me."

"Excuse my abruptness, Hime-ya, but you are being annoyingly polite." I frown slowly, looking at Law from the corner of my eye. He is currently slouched in his chair, head supported by an equally lazy hand and elbow propped against the armrest, looking unmoved by his own words. "These idiots don't deserve it." Adds Law.

"Oi, oi, oi!" Penguin grumbles, waving his fork in Law's direction, the tip dancing in the air languidly. "I resent that! We do deserve it once in a while!"

"You do not deny you are an idiot, Penguin-san?" I ask. Surely one would defend such disrespect, though perhaps they accept it.

"Penguin's an idiot, I believe we can all agree on that." Law saws in a low voice, lips barely moving through his smirk.

The man huffs, saying, "You don't get to be head engineer if you're an idiot."

"You are head engineer, Penguin-san?" I ask.

"Hey! So am I!" Snaps the man beside me. I wince at the volume and resist a scowl.

"Well we're both head engineer."

"I'm first mate and navigator." Bepo says with a slightly raised paw. I look to him and nod, knowing this already. Naturally there must be an interesting story as to how one comes to acquire a bipedal, lingual polar bear in the first place, and assuming he can fight, how one could teach it to defend itself in a human-dominated world. Though I am no expert on polar bears, or even animals for that matter, by Bepo's fur and eye condition, I can't imagine him being any older than nine years of age, so Law is most definitely not a long-lived pirate. The bear, his first mate, would have been the first to join, most likely above three years of age considering how polar bears mature, so Law must only have been a pirate for six or less years.

I smirk inwardly. Such an inexperienced pirate, as most sailing these waters have been around for very many years, has little idea of the Grand Line, especially if he is only two islands into it. His crew isn't particularly large and as of yet, hardly threatening. They have the advantage of remaining underwater for the most part, though that comes with its added dangers, but have little to offer in the way of 'stirring up' the Grand Line. I doubt they will last long in any case.

Finally, my thoughts linger once more… How is it that a _polar bear_ becomes the navigator? My nose twitches in silent thought as I mull the possibilities over. Assuming Bepo's navigational skills have to do with migration, of polar bears migrate wherever he is native to, that might come into play with his natural sense of direction. Nonetheless, I do not bother to question him.

"You have a very… Unique crew, Trafalgar-san." I comment lightly. During silence, it seems what had started as simple kicking escalated into a full-blown wrestling match between Penguin and Shachi on the table top. Sadly it seems Law is content to allow Bepo try –and naturally fail- in stopping them. "Do tell me how you manage to control them in a serious situation. It seems your abilities in human manipulation might be quite useful."

"To me or you?" He asks tightly.

"Regardless of whom, I simply wish to know." I reply in a light, sweet voice. Law sighs, whether from his brash crew members or my indefinite answer, I cannot tell. Although he doesn't quite seem frustrated, merely tired.

Strangely, a smirk twists comfortably onto his lips and he looks from the bickering group to me. Slate-grey eyes stare at me, almost challenging my very existence. "Like this." He licks his dry lips, continuing to watch me. "Oi, stop." With an unchanging volume tone, the pair stops and the sound of bouncing plates, cups and cutlery ceases. Bepo freezes and quickly resumes his seat. Glaring at one another, Shachi and Penguin slide of the table to their seats, picking food off their once pristine boiler seats.

"I must admit I am impressed, Trafalgar-san." The atmosphere feels tight a few moments, and I can feel Shachi, Penguin and possibly Bepo await reprisal. As they realise it is not going to come, they soon assume their previous conversation.

"You should be, Hime-ya." Law pushes his head from his hand and slouches slightly in his chair. "Go and get me a drink." He commands, causing me to quirk an eyebrow indignantly. I do not quite understand what it is this man is trying to pull, but I'll have no part in it.

I purse my lips again, the words tumbling from my lips. "I beg your pardon?" My bloody eyes narrow into an irrepressible glower, mouth tilting downwards and brow knotting together. "Do not mistake me for a common maid."

Law sighs lightly, looking a little disappointed as if he'd lost a precious thing. "And here I thought I could tame you with my good-looks alone." Mocking, his eyes never leave mine. He straightens and continues. "Perhaps not, Hime-ya. But that's okay, I always did enjoy an unlikely challenge."


End file.
